Green Pastures, Quiet Waters
by Aragem
Summary: Four people awaken 100 years into the future, before the events of ME. They not only have to cope with new lives, but also uncover the conspiracy that the Alliance is desperate to hide and others are eager to reveal. Yet, another title change.
1. Awakening

"_Sleep. . . Oh! How I hate those little slices of death."_

-Author Unknown

Peace was constant. No movement, no sound, no feeling. Just existence. She existed. She just was.

Then sound disturbed the peace.

The sound was dull and long. An airy hum that was soothing and it seemed to lull her back into oblivion.

Dull thuds echoed and vibrated her dark world. Hums lilted and dropped and rose again. They were new changes to her world, but they meant nothing to her. Comprehension was not possible in the darkness that was her world. Her world just was, like her.

Cognitive ability returned to her and she began to hope the hums would stop.

They weren't frightening, they were annoying. They were foreign and a disturbance to the peace.

"..........temperatures.............brain...................signs.............."

The hums were becoming more focused or she was focusing more on them. The way they lilted was making more sense to her. She was able to understand that a certain rhythm of sound and flows created language which created words which created speech.

".........up...............worry................time......."

Feeling, physical sensation, told her that she was cold and wet. All over. Her dark safe world was being pulled away bit by bit and she was being lifted into another world.

"Careful, we..........cause damage.........be patient........"

"She........eyes......"

Where there was darkness, there was now light.

Blue light. No, not light. It wasn't bright or shining, it was just there like a fog. A darkness moved within it, blurry and shapeless. A curtain appeared at the edge of her eye and touched her.

Hair. Her hair was free floating about her face. She stared at it, amazed and realized she was in water. Underwater and was breathing. That made no sense. She was underwater, there was no air and she was inhaling it right now.

A mask. A breathing mask was over her mouth and nose. She was breathing through that. Why was she here?

The blurry shapes were sharpening and coming more and more into focus. They were people standing over her, faces looking down at her.

"She's coming around. Her brain patterns say that she's able to recognize shapes and some sound." The voice was female, high and soft. It was muffled by the water, but she was still able to comprehend

"I'm worried about her brain functions. There could be negative reactions from cryo-stasis." The second voice was male, firmer and deeper. It had a bit a gravel hum to it that made her nervous, anxious.

"The others are alright as far as we can tell. It worried me that she took longer to come out of the coma than I would have liked. But everything has righted itself, but I will perform further tests once we get them to the Waver."

Cryo-stasis. That word meant something. It meant a lot. It was an explanation for her situation.

Then came memory.

* * *

**Within Earth's orbit, 2070**

"If you would come this way, Mrs. Sheridan."

The attendant was a woman around her age, mid 30's, with burgundy hair and a nose peppered with faint freckles. She wore a light blue slacks and a top that reminded her of scrubs worn in hospitals. She might as well think of them as scrubs. The orbital facility was a medical laboratory after all.

"Could I get another. . . . shift?" She whispered pulling her eyes from the bathroom mirror. The shift she wore was white and made of a special fiber that killed germs on contact. It was used as hospital gowns and were meant to provide modesty to patients. . . .or it was suppose to.

Hers apparently had been meant for a much larger man. The neck was open while and the straps precariously hung off her shoulders. If she wasn't careful, the strap could slip off her shoulder and the shift would drop to reveal a breast. If she could be allowed to have a safety pin or even two rubber bands she could tie off the straps to have them placed more securely on her shoulders. Also, the material was very thin, making it very apparent to any who saw her that she was very cold.

"My apologies, but that is the only available size we had left and you did arrive late." The condescending tone grated on her. Who was this woman to looked down upon her just for wanting to spend an extra ten minutes with her husband and daughter. They wouldn't see her for the next 5 years.

"And you did say that it would just be women in our room?" She plucked the straps up onto her shoulders.

"Of course, and also you'll be in a deep sleep. You have been through through the seminar about Cryo-genesis?"

Lynn Sheridan gave the woman a piercing look. Of course she had been through the seminar. Everyone who was going to be frozen had been through the seminar. It was a requirement before they would allow you onto the Athena, the orbital ship that was dedicated to science and study of medicine for rare diseases.

Lynn's disease was in her right arm and was spreading up to her shoulder and neck. If it was allowed to continue, then it would reach her face and eyes. Then disease could blindness when it reached her eyes and then possibly make Lynn brain dead when it finally reached her brain..

Her arm was crisscrossed in very dark vein like streaks. They resembled bruises, but had a very black color to it that would not heal nor fade. Scientists have theorized that it could be a mutated virus. Others suggested it was a new form of cancer that modern treatments can't successfully combat yet. Doom sayers decreed it as the Mark of Cain.

The doctors told Lynn that she would be brain dead in less than a year if the disease continued to spread up to her body. She was slowly loosing feeling in her arm and her fingers were numb and almost useless. Her best hope was going into cryo-stasis. Where her body would be cryo-genically frozen to such a time when a cure or treatment was created.

Her body would be monitor while tests of lab animals was conducted to discover the cause and treatment for the disease. She would be awaken in five years either to receive a cure or treatment, and if there was no cure at that time, then she would be tested and samples taken. She would then had the option of living out what time she had left or returning to Cryo for another five years.

It wasn't an easy decision to make. She only gave her doctor permission to enroll her into the program because she honestly believed that there was little chance of her condition to be accepted. Yet, she received an email from her doctor informing her that she had been accepted into the program.

Afterwards, she had been dogged by specialists to consider the program, even sending her holo-tapes educating her about the process and the benefits of it. She noticed that none of them made mention of the fact that she'd be away from her family for five years.

"If you'll come this way, you can meet your roomies." The woman smiled at her own joke that only she thought was funny.

Lynn shrugged the straps back into a more secured position on her shoulders and followed the woman.

The Athena was designed and built with the mind of having a sterile environment. The air was constantly being purified and small cleaning rovers hummed across the floor sweeping away any offensive dust particles. The walls were so white that it hurt Lynn's eyes if she stared at them too long.

Her papered booties made no sound and were so thin, her feet were still cold and she wondered what was the use in wearing them. The attendant led her down a long white hall and to a door on the right.

She inserted her key card into a thin slot at the side of the door. A small green light flicked on granting access. The door slide apart down the middle revealing another white room. In this room was four black Cryo-tanks.

The Cryo-tanks were thick cylinder shaped with padding on the inside and the glass covered swept to the side for the subjects to enter easily. Sitting on a padded bench at the foot of one of the tanks was a young teenage girl. And she was the most beautiful girl Lynn had ever seen outside of promotional ad-vids and digital recordings.

Long gold hair hung down her shoulders and back in a thick river. She was wearing a thin shift that was similar to the one Lynn wore, but it fit her smaller frame more snuggly than hers. At first, Lynn believed her to be 12, but then as she viewed the girl from a different angle, she realized that she had to be at least 14 years old.

The girl looked over her shoulder at the new people and noticed Lynn and gave her a shy smile and a wave. Lynn waved back and said, "Hello, are you here for the program?"

She noticed that the girl's smile turned nervous and she had a blank look on her face. She didn't answer.

"Oh, don't bother speaking with her. She doesn't understand English, she's French." The attendant stood at the cryo-tank that had been designated as Lynn's and checked the reading on dashboard console. "Everything checks out. Your tank is ready for you."

Lynn sat down on the small bench at the foot of her tank and took a deep breath in steady her nerves. She had came to terms with each of her fears regarding this project. Her fears of never waking up, the dark oblivion that was sure to come. The seminar agents had assured her that it was like a dreamless sleep for a night. Except five years will pass between she closes her eyes and when she opens them.

* * *

The water tickled as it crawled down her body as it was drained. A since of anticipation came over her as she heard the gurgle of the water gushing into the drain beneath the rails on either side of her body. Five years had passed and now she could see her family again. It was exactly as the attendants had told her. It as if she was waking up from a nights sleep.

She tried to move, but the message from her brain wasn't reaching her limbs. It was as if she was only a head and nothing more. She could feel though, and knew her limbs were still intact. Then she remembered what she had been told; upon waking up, she will be paralyzed as her muscles had become too weak to respond to her brain's messages. She would have to wait until stimulates was injected to move and speak.

"Mrs. Sheridan? Can you hear me?"

She opened her eyes and they focused on a male face. He had a wide frame with armored chest and shoulders. He had a strong jaw, a chiseled nose, and dark eyes. She tried to speak, but her her lips were in the same condition as her limbs. He must have noticed, "If you can hear me, blink once."

She blinked.

He smiled showing off perfect white teeth. "Good. One blink means yes, two blinks mean no. Understand?"

She blinked once.

"Can you feel this?"

She felt a tickle on the bottom of her foot.

She blinked once.

"That's a positive sign." The female voice spoke. Another face appeared and this one was a woman. She was a brunette and her hair was tied back from her face. She was wearing a white form fitting suit and she was typing away at something that was glowing on her wrist. It looked like a data-pad, but it was transparent and it gave an orange glow. "We'll go ahead and inject the stimulants in now."

"You said that rushing things could be dangerous." The man said glancing at the woman.

"You said that we were in a hurry to leave." The woman replied stiffly, irritated at being questioned "You said lingering out in the Terminus systems was dangerous."

"I know, but my orders are to make sure that they are unharmed."

Orders? Dangerous? Terminus system? What were they talking about!? She wanted to ask these questions, but all she can do is bat her eyes, hoping that they would clarify what they were talking about. She wanted to know if they had found a treatment or a cure for her disease? If she could go home to her family.

But something was wrong. The man did not look like a doctor. He made her think military. The woman was different. She wasn't wearing the usual uniform of an employee of the Athena.

The man must have taken notice of her distress and said in a calming tone. "Don't worry, my name is Commander Alex Jefferson of the SSV Waver. We're here to get you out of here."

What did the military have to do with this? Something was wrong and it frightened her.

"Her heart rate is going up." The woman said disapprovingly. "We can't wait for her to calm down."

She felt a pinch in her legs and arms. Doubtless it was the stimulates being injected.

* * *

**Within Earth's Orbit, 2070**

The girl was brushing her hair back over her shoulders. When her hair was momentarily lifted off her neck and along her smooth skin was a dark blemish that spread down to her collar bone. That was where her disease was located.

Lynn felt sympathy for the girl. She shouldn't be here letting five years of her time with her family brush by due to some uncaring disease. Not to mention the poor parents who must let their daughter go away for five long years if only to preserve her life.

The attendant had left to oversee other duties, leaving them alone with their tanks. There were two other unclaimed tanks and Lynn supposed that they were waiting for their occupants to arrive before they would undergo their deep sleep. Lynn felt anxious and wanted something to do, anything.

She pushed herself from the bench and crossed the floor. The girl looked startled when Lynn settled beside her. _"Oui ? Qu'est-ce que c'est?"_

Lynn smiled. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to be alone right now. I'm pretty nervous." She motioned at the tanks.

The girl stared at her blankly. _"Je ne comprends pas."_

Lynn touched her blacken arm and then touched the black mark on the girl's neck. "We're alike."

The girl comprehended that much and nodded. _"Oui, je suis malade aussi." _

"I'm going to miss my baby girl." Lynn made the universal sign for baby by making a cradling motion with her arms. "And I will miss my husband."

"_Bébé_?" The girl looked quizzical. She pointed at Lynn and then made the rocking motion with her arms. _"Vous avez un bébé?"_

Lynn nodded. "She's not a little baby anymore though. She's three now." Lynn held her flat down two feet off the floor and then held up three fingers. "But when I see her again she'll be eight years old." She then raised her hand higher from the floor and then flexed her hand up revealing all five digits and then holding up three fingers.

Then the girl released a twitter of words that Lynn wished she could understand. _"Je suis désolé que vous manquiez votre bébé. Je manquerai ma maman et papa, bien que je sache qu'il n'aimera aucune heure a au delà, mais ils seront cinq ans plus et ainsi tout mes amis d'école. Ils disent qu'ils seront toujours mes amis quand je me réveille, mais je sais qu'ils seront des adultes et ne voudront plus être autour de moi." _

The girl's eyes started to glisten as tears threatened to come forth. Lynn touched the girl's shoulders and drew her in for a deep hug. "It's alright, honey. We'll be just fine and we'll see our families again, okay?"

The girl drew back and wiped her eyes. She touched her chest. _"Mon nom est Colette Laurent." _

It sounded so much like an introduction that she introduced herself. "Lynn Sheridan."

The door slid opened revealing a new person. A tall dark haired woman also wearing a white shift. She had very pale skin that was only a few shades darker than the white walls. Lynn and Colette both watched her silently cross the room and sit at the tank closest to the door.

"Hello. . ." Lynn called to her.

The woman turned her head and nodded at them. There was an tension in her shoulders and her face was stiffed with firm eyes. Then she turned her face forward, watching the door, not saying anything else. She was muscular and Lynn wouldn't be surprised if she regularly worked out. Perhaps her silence is anxiety about being placed in deep sleep.

Lynn would have approached her too, but there was something about the woman that seemed to say, 'stay away'. Her disease was on her bare legs, coiled around her calf and knee as a venomous serpent.

The door opened and Lynn met their fourth roommate.

* * *

Within an hour, she was being lifted up carefully between the woman, Dr. Paola and the Commander. They had slipped her into a large thick robe that hung over her body, giving her modesty and warmth from the clinging wet shift.

Her arms were curled around their shoulders and they coached her taking her steps. Her legs still felt stiff and she could only scoot them along the floor. Her speech slurred when she tried to talk, and the doctor assured her that her speech would return to her.

It was exhausting work and she sagged into the bench, prompted up by Dr. Paola when they decided to give her a break. She was so tired, that she didn't hear the Commander get a call on his comm-link. He portrayed some orders turned to the two women.

"We don't have time for her to get use of her legs." Commander Jefferson muttered. "Mrs. Sheridan, is it alright for me to carry you to the Waver? That will save us a lot of time."

She blinked once. She didn't favor the idea of a strange man carrying her, but it was better for her legs if she was carried. She was getting tired just by the minimal movement that she was able to perform.

He very easily swung her up into his arms. The motion made her dizzy, but that soon past to give way to embarrassment. The last time she was carried like this was when she was a small child. And the Commander carried her with such ease, she might as well have been a child.

Something caught her eye that unnerved her. The walls were different. They weren't white. They weren't white as she remembered.

The halls were different too. She thought the hall was longer, this turn to the right they were making was wrong. . . . . she inhaled and noticed that the air was different. It wasn't being purified, it was just air now.

What was wrong? Her heart was pounding and her mind was screaming, wrong, wrong, wrong!

Why was a military man here? Terminus system. . . . what the hell happened?

* * *

**Within Earth's Orbit, 2070**

Twenty minutes later, the last subject arrived and Lynn was very much alarmed by this person indeed.

This person was a tall man with bleached blond hair that was closely shaved along his skull, except for a long thick strand of hair that hung loosely at the side of his face. That single strand was a myriad of colors, from deep blue to crimson red, and striking violet. All three women stared at the man for only the reason of that strand of hair. He wasn't handsome, but he wasn't ugly either. He was just shocking. The disease was on his chest, it peeked up along his collar bone

He was very thin, but he was built as if he had spent some time lifting weights. He had sharp features and slanted eyes that were bright blue. His chin was very pointed along with a long nose that was slightly upturn. He glanced at the women staring at him and had a very sullen look upon his face. "I thought this was a men's room."

It was the way that he said it that made Lynn's nerves flair up. It was a ugly and disdainful tone as if they weren't where they were suppose to be. She was about to deliver a scathing retort of this room being women only, when she realized that her shift had slipped off her shoulders without her notice and her breasts were threatening to reveal themselves. She yanked her collar up to her neck and mentally cursed the attendant who was just walking in with the false cheery smile on her face.

"Okay, so everyone is here, let's get started. Winter Matthews, your tank is over there." She pointed at the last unclaimed tank.

He sulked over to it and flopped down on it looking very unhappy. Lynn stared at him wondering what the hell his problem was and she noticed the dark haired woman staring at him too. They caught each other glances. The dark haired woman shrugged and smiled as if saying, 'what's his problem?' She had lovely dark blue eyes.

Lynn felt out of place with her brown eyes and dumpy figure.

"Okay, I'm sure you have gone over and over the procedure for this, but we are going to go over it once more." The attendant announced walking over to a main computer that was set into the wall. She typed a few keys and the tanks hummed to life.

Lynn stood from the bench she had shared with Colette. She patted the girl on the shoulder. "Good night, I'll see you when we wake up."

Colette must have understood and nodded, _"__Bonne nuit." _

"The liquid may feel cold, but don't worry. Think of it as first dipping into a swimming pool. Your body will get use to it." The attendant recited as if she was reading directly from a script. "Then before you lay back, be sure to secure the face mask around your head. I'll be coming around to check them before I allow you to go under. Then we'll be administer a gentle drug that will lull you into a deep sleep and when you wake up, five years will have past."

The water was icy cold and it took her a while to get use to it. The masks were buckled around her face, her mouth and nose tucked into it showing only the upper part of her head. The attendant, as she said that she would, came around to make sure that everyone's mask was secured. Then they all leaned back, fully emerging themselves into the liquid. Lynn listened to the hum of the machine, enhanced by the liquid around her.

She smelled the gas and inhaled it. She closed her eyes and knew nothing.

* * *

She opened her eyes to see a bright light overhead in a dark ceiling. She shut her eyes tight to protect them from the painful light. Her head hurt and her mouth felt dry. She dearly wanted something to drink.

"Are you feeling alright?" A woman asked her.

Lynn took the chance of opening her eyes and saw that it was Dr. Paola. Her lips moved and she found she was able to speak, though her voice was weak and a bit scratchy. "Water?"

Paola already had a cup with straw available. Lynn gulped it down and the straw make an annoying airy sound as she tried to get the last few droplets. She sat back, her thirst sated and took deep breaths. "My head hurts."

"I can give you something for it." Dr. Paola replied as she moved out of Lynn's site. The sounds of plastic containers being moved and a lid popped opened. Lynn took this moment to take in her surroundings. She was definitely in some sort of medical room. She could see the red cross on a wall and on the breast of Dr. Paola's uniform.

Dr. Paola reappeared with tablets in a small paper cup and the plastic cup refilled with water. Lynn accepted the medicine and drank her fill of the water again. Why did she feel so thirsty? Was this normal after awakening from cryo-genesis?

Since she had her speech back, she can ask the question that had been plaguing her since she opened her eyes. "Is. . . is there a cure?" Dr. Paola flinched and Lynn's heart sank. "You didn't. . . . find anything that can help. . . ?"

"Oh, yes, yes, we have found a treatment that allow you to live a normal life."

Lynn smiled, and exhaled a long breath that she had been holding. "Then. . . then I don't have to go back to sleep. . . ."

"No, of course not." Dr. Paola took a seat in a chair next to the bed.

"May I call my husband?" Lynn attempted to sit up, but found that her arms weren't strong enough yet to heft her upward.

"Mrs. Sheridan, perhaps you should get more sleep."

"Na. . .no, I want to talk to Gregory. Its been five years for him. I. . . I want to let him know that I'm awake now. I want to talk to Maria. . . ." Lynn tried again and managed to sit up, but it took great effort on her part.

"Mrs. Sheridan, please, let me get Commander Jefferson and he can. . .he can help explain things."

Lynn caught the note of anxiety in the doctor's voice and it worried her. "What's wrong?"

"I'll be right back." The doctor practically fled from the room.

Lynn wasn't waiting. She wanted to call her husband now and that was what she was going to do. It took her several tries, but somehow, she was able to get her legs around and over the edge of the bed and now came the hard part; putting her weight on her feet and walking.

What had been a job she could perform without thinking now became a impossible task. Her legs simply refused to support her and she feared falling on her face on the hard floor.

She laid back on the bed, exhausted. Perhaps it was wiser to wait for Dr. Paola to return. But for some reason, she dreaded the doctor's return. What was that nervous look in her eyes for? What was wrong with Lynn speaking with her family?

There was two things Lynn noticed. One, her hand was normal.

She held her hand up and saw that it was no longer had black veins on it; there was only grayish strips on it now. The feeling was back in her hand and she was able to move it as well as her other hand. She smiled at what was certain proof that the doctor was telling the truth. There was treatment for her disease after all.

And secondly, she noticed the room. The room had the typical aspects of a medical room, but it was. . . .different. The medical tools, the design of the beds, and even the shelves looked strange. As if. . . as if. . . something had changed, but what? She recognized them for what they were, but there was something off about them that felt alien.

There was an echo of weeping from down the hall outside. She sat up, finding it easier to set up after all the exertion. "Hello?"

There was silence and then she watched the door open and there stood Colette with teary eyes. She was wearing clothes that seemed too big for her; a blue short sleeve shirt with black pants. Lynn's face fell in deep concern. "Honey?"

"_Il est terrible!" _She choked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Lynn wished she could understand what the girl was saying, but regretfully, she did understand that one word. Terrible.

The girl sputtered, speaking with her sobs. "_Ils ont dit que nous avons été endormis pendant cent années. Chacun que nous savons est mort. Allé. Allé pour toujours."_

"I. . . I don't understand. . . . ."

"She said that you've been asleep for one hundred years." Commander Jefferson appeared behind Colette, a grim look on his face. 


	2. Recovery

_Our sorrows and wounds are healed only when we touch them with compassion._  
-- Buddha

Dr. Paola looked down at her patient and clucked her tongue. "You wouldn't have thought she would have had such strength in her arm after being asleep so long in cryo-genesis."

The left side of Commander Jefferson's lip was swollen and Paola had been gently dabbing at it with medi-gel after cleansing away the blood. The medi-gel was already making the swelling go away and was soothing the sting.

"You'd think with your training, you could have dodge a flying projectile."

"She threw that cup pretty hard and nearly at the last second." Jefferson gingerly touched his lip and winced when he put too much pressure. "It's to be expected. They are all in a whole new universe now."

Dr. Paola tossed the bloodied cotton into a sanitary disposal box. "But still, it's amazing. They come from when we had truly believed that we were the only life in the universe and we were just colonizing Mars. And the longest we could hope to live was 100 years. When the news breaks on earth, human media will be all over them and maybe non-human as well."

"You haven't forgotten that we can't talk about this to the media, Mirim." Jefferson replied sternly, his dark eyes giving her a hard look.

"Relax, Alex, relax. I was just saying that if the media found out about this. . . that's all."

* * *

Later on, she did feel guilty about her blow up. She had screamed at the commander, called him names, and even threw the plastic cup at him. She couldn't remember if she had struck him with it or not before she fainted. Whether from shock or from the exertion of her rage, she had passed out.

The crew gave the awakened patients dorms to reside in the medical bay. The dorms were small consisting of only a bed and medical equipment to aid in breathing or monitoring health signs. It felt like a cell, but it was a cell that she chose.

She didn't leave her room for two days. She slept mostly, because sleeping was preferable to being awake and thinking about her family. Sometimes she woke up to a banging sound. It was dull and it felt as if it was coming from next door. She considered complaining about it, but didn't feel motivated to do so.

Colette visited her often and stayed in her room. The other two, the woman who didn't speak and the sullen rainbow haired man, Lynn did not see. She was sure that they were somewhere, but she wasn't feeling up to finding them.

Speaking to her in French, making sure that she ate and drank. Sometimes the girl sat on her bed and studied through data pad full of human history of the last 100 years. However, what Colette found fascinated was the history for the last 30 years.

"_Ce sont des étrangers." _Colette said holding up a datapad that revealed a small LCD screen. The screen was able to flick at the tap of a fingertip.

The one thing that astounded Lynn about the future was not only the existence of aliens, but that humans were living among them like normal citizens. It was like space had already been settled and humanity had happened to stumble onto it.

The first image made Lynn recoil in horror. The image consisted of a creature holding a futuristic rifle and armor. The creature itself looks like a prehistoric bird. "_C'est un Turian. Il indique qu'ils sont les premiers étrangers que nous avons rencontrés, mais nous sommes allés à la guerre avec eux. Je ne suis pas certain sur qui a gagné, mais je pense qu'il est regrettable que nous sommes allés à la guerre avec la première course étrangère que nous trouvons par hasard. Je pense que fait une mauvaise première impression sur les autres courses étrangères." _

Lynn could only nod as if she could understand the rush of French. Maybe one day it would sink it.

The banging noise echoed across the room. Colette glanced up from her datapad. _Quel est ce bruit?"_

"I don't know what that noise is. Wait a moment, and it'll stop." Lynn muttered knowing exactly what the girl was asking.

And sure enough, the banging stopped. Colette was still attentive as a frightened rabbit and whispered, "_J'espère qui n'était pas la rupture de bateau."_

After a few moments of silence, Colette then folded her legs and flicked the screen to the next image. On this image was an alien with a long face and very large eyes. They made her think of the stereotypical alien in old movies and tv shows. And then Colette showed her an image of aliens that resembled human women with blue skin and wavy folds of skin instead of hair.

The more Colette showed her, the more Lynn became interested. The alien races and the technology of this day and age drew her from her deep depression and look over the information datapad with the girl.

It seemed that all the Earth's nations had banded together to create a single army called the Alliance to protect humanity's interests in the intergalactic community. Other than that, the politics were confusing and vague. From what Lynn could gather, humanity was the newest species to join what is called Citadel Space which is ruled by a Council. Though they were new members, they have accomplished in decades what had taken most species centuries to attain and it is expected that they would join the Council itself eventually.

It was almost too overwhelming for her to absorb. So she changed to it something that she and Colette could both share an interest. Today's female style.

It seemed more fashionable to wear the hair short. All of the women in ads and tv shows had their hair cut short or at least no longer than the edge of their jaws. Lynn touched her shoulder length hair and noticed Colette's long blond tresses tied back into two ponytails that hung down her back.

The hair wasn't too bad, but the latest style in dress left something to be desired. The skirt was long, nearly covering the shoes and was long sleeved. Some can choose to have the front whole while others can have the option of have the front exposed to reveal stomach and most of the chest. But the dress looked very restrictive and hot to Lynn.

Lynn was reading over this style, learning that it was originally a Asari design, when the screen was dotted with crimson. Lynn lifted her face to see a line of red rush from Colette's nose. The girl clutched her nose with both hands.

Lynn quickly snatched a few tissues from a box. "Are you okay?"

Colette readily accepted the tissues and clutched them to her nose. _"Je suis si désolé. Je ne sais pas pourquoi ceci s'est produit." _

"Here, honey, pinch your nose, like this." Lynn pinched the bridge of her nose. "Does your nose. . . .never mind, you can't understand me."

The bleeding soon stopped and Lynn used another tissue to wipe screen clean and threw away the bloodied tissues into a small waste basket. "Usually I wouldn't fuss too much over a nosebleed, but after what we've been through, it might be a good idea to talk to the doctor about it."

Colette picked at her nose looking a little flushed. Lynn glanced at her and found herself giving the girl a reassuring smile before leaning over to kissed her on the forehead. "You're alright, honey."

The girl stared up at her, and then burst into tears. "_Je manque ma mère et père! Je déteste que ceci se soit produit! Je souhaite que je ne sois jamais entré dans le réservoir!"_

Lynn didn't need translation to know or understand. She sat close beside her and placed her arms around her. She let the girl take her turn at weepingfor her lost family and grieved for her own.

Then the girl stopped and was breathing hard with her head on Lynn's lap and the older woman brushing her hand over the girl's head. When Lynn had learned that her family was gone, there was a hole in her life now. Colette's presence didn't completely fill that void, but it did make it seem smaller.

The banging noised resumed.

* * *

Colette became Lynn's roommate from then on. Though the bed was small, it was a great comfort to feel a warm body against hers. Lynn became the girl's surrogate parent while she became her surrogate child. It was a natural fit, a mother who lost her child and a child who lost her parents. Caring for Colette's welfare gave Lynn a sort of security that she had lost upon the deliverance of the news from Commander Jefferson.

However, it did not prevent her from grieving for them. It was strange. She felt as if they had just died, as if from an accident or sudden illness. But they had died years and years ago while she slept on.

Their disease had faded away with those days. Her arm changed through several shades of gray until it faded out completely and her arm was as normal looking as the other. Her arm had full feeling back and she was able to use it as she did before she became sick.

Speaking of which, it was time she was told what had happened. And hopefully see what her family had done in their lives without her. She sent a request through Dr. Paola to speak with Commander Jefferson. When word returned to her, she was informed that she would be speaking with Staff Lieutenant Aaron Mitaka.

She allowed to Colette to come with her. Upon leaving the dorm, she noticed that the two dorms next to hers had bolts on them. She paused, staring at the bolts and realized that she hadn't seen their other two tank mates. The rude man and the silent woman.

Were they locked behind these doors?

She raised a hand to knock when a female voice halted her, "I wouldn't do that, Mrs. Sheridan."

Dr. Paola was standing at the doorway of the medical ward. She was smiling, but there was a nervous glint in her eye. "You'll wake up Margery Kayla."

"Margery Kayla? Do you mean the dark haired woman?"

Paola raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you didn't know her name?"

"I met her just minutes before they had us enter the tanks. And she was very quiet. And didn't seem like as she wanted to socialize."

"I see." Dr. Paola crossed the room to check supplies in a cabinet. Her face disappeared from view for a moment. "She's been having headaches a lot lately, so I've given her some sedatives to help her sleep."

"Like Colette's nosebleeds?"

The French girl nose drizzled blood almost every two hours. The bleeding would drain from her nostrils and then stop within seconds. The wastebasket was nearly half full of bloodied tissues and they even had to ask for a new box of tissues. It wouldn't be too long before they would have to ask for a third box.

Dr. Paola assured them that it was the result of the cryo-freeze. She said that it was rare, but nosebleeds were possible especially after such long time in the tank. She said that the nosebleeds were harmless as long as they lasted no longer than two minutes and they should slack off after a while. But if they didn't by the time they returned to Earth, then she could certainly have Colette being examined.

Despite the doctor's assurance, Lynn didn't feel at ease at all. She wasn't a doctor and nor was she trained in all at first aid, but so many nosebleeds cannot possibly be good. If she was at home, on Earth, she would have Colette see another doctor, but being isolated on this ship, she had no choice but to accept Dr. Paola's word and wait for the return to Earth.

"What are the bolts for?" She pointed at the black objects that sealed the doors.

"Oh, these rooms are for patients that are potentially dangerous to others. Sometimes we take prisoners who are wounded and they need treatment and restrained too." She glanced between Lynn and the bolts and smiled reassuringly, "Don't worry, they aren't locked inside. The bolts are just there. They can be locked, but we aren't going that do that to our guests."

"Oh, I see."

"Lieutenant Mitaka is borrowing my office to speak with you." Dr. Paola motioned to a far door which had her name slide in a slot at the side.

"Thank you."

Lynn walked on ahead where Dr. Paola motioned. The doctor watched the woman entered her office and glanced at the bolts. She checked them to make sure that they were in place and locked.

* * *

Lynn entered the office and saw a man studying a medical chart on the wall with his back to her. He was wearing the same black armor that Commander Jefferson was wearing. His frame was a bit smaller than Jefferson's, but it was no less intimidating. He turned when the door slide behind her and she was surprised to see that he was younger than Jefferson.

She drew in a deep breath when she saw his face. There were differences of course. His jaw wasn't as thick and his lips were different, but the eyes and the long nose. And the hair was cut short, like Jefferson's, military style. Though he was taller than her, she was certain that he was younger than her 36 years. But if he was 40 years old. . . then he would look more like her husband, Gregory.

He was staring back at her. His eyes were on her face and then quick glance downward and then back to her face again. He remained focused on her face and then gave her a warm smile At least, he was respectful and discipline, which must have came from military training.

He held out a hand. "I'm Lieutenant Aaron Mitaka. You must be Lynn Sheridan, one of our lost souls."

She took his hand and he had a firm, but gentle grip. "Yes, I am. I. . .I just want to know. . . .well. . . what happened?"

"Please, let's sit down. I understand that you had a hard time of it."

"I did."

They scooted two chairs close together facing each other. She noticed that he didn't take over the desk, pretending that he owned the office like most would do. He was a man who understood and respected boundaries. She couldn't help, but warm up to him on first meeting.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning." He leaned forward in his chair taking a more casual position instead of the straight back formal stance that Jefferson had. It made her feel more at ease. "What happened was an accident. The Athena, the medical ship was doubled as a transport of medical faculty and supplies from Earth to the colony on Mars. One such trip, an asteroid collided with the ship. People barely evacuated the ship with their lives. Unfortunately, patients, such as yourself and your fellows were left behind. We tried to find the remains of the ship, but. . . back then space travel wasn't what it is to day."

"I see. . . ." So it really wasn't anyone's fault. In fact, she wasn't the only one to have suffered losses from that incident. "So we were pronounced dead?"

He nodded. "Yes. Recently, a month ago, the Alliance received word of the remains of the Athena in the Terminus system. Let me tell you, you guys were very very lucky not to have been discovered by pirates or scavengers. They would have killed you in cryo-sleep or sold you in the underground slave market."

"You mean by aliens?"

"Sadly, not just aliens. While most humans have become respected citizens in Citadel Space, others have become involved in the criminal underworld. Batarians are the ones you really have to be aware of. They are nefariously known for attacking colonies and taking human slaves. They really hate us."

Lynn knitted her brows. "But I thought Turians hated us."

"Because of the war? Yes, they did after the First Contact War, but that was thirty years ago. Most of them are over it, but some still hold a grudge, but they have a rigid honor code that prevents them from causing trouble for us. Most fights between a human and Turian is when the human threw the first punch." Mitaka gave her a smile, but then it faded. "Batarians on the other hand hate us because they claim that we are encroaching on their territory. The Council didn't stop us from colonizing territory they claimed was theirs so they cut off ties from the Council and blame us for it."

"This is all interesting, but. . . I. . . .I want to know what. . . my family. . . .how were they after. . . " She swallowed a growing lump in her throat.

Mitaka studied her face and spoke, "Your husband, Gregory Sheridan remarried two years after the incident. Your daughter, Maria, she grew up and became a doctor. She married a co-worker and they opened their own practice together and had three children."

So she was a grandmother also. Her little three year old had grown up into a successful woman and became a mother. . . without her. No, she had someone else to be her mother. Her husband had remarried and she had a step-mother. Did they get along? Or did her daughter love her as her own mother.

"Damn, I'm sorry. I. . . " She saw Mitaka stand up and grab box of tissues sitting on the corner of Dr. Paola's desk and hand them to her. She then felt the tears on her cheeks and wiped her face.

"I'm sorry. I. . . I thought I had. . .came to terms. . . I. . . dammit." She swallowed, her hands wringing the tissue embarrassedly. "Do you know if. . . that. . .the woman. . . Gregory met. . .was she good?"

Mitaka smiled. "She was very good to a widower and his daughter. She raised Maria as her own and had two children between herself and Gregory."

Those words made her feel better, but only a little. "I. . . I should be happy that someone took care of them. . . but. . . it hurts to know I was replaced."

Mitaka shook his head, his gloved hand closing around the hand that was wringing the tissue, stilling it. "You weren't replaced, Mrs. Sheridan. Your. . . you were remembered, I'm sure."

A signal beeped from the device in his ear. He touched it with his fingertips. "Mitaka here." He listened to the soft whisper of the other person on the line, his hand not leaving hers. "I understand. I will be there."

He looked up at her after lowering his hand from his head. He had dark eyes. "I have to go now. Please, return to your room and rest. If you want to speak again, we can."

"Thank you, Mr. Mitaka." She wiped her eyes.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" He asked her as they stood.

"No, there isn't. . . .well. . . we have noticed a banging noise." She blew her nose in the tissue.

"A banging?"

"It echoes, but I think it is coming from the next dorm."

"I wouldn't worry. It's likely the ship settling in space." Mitaka touched her arm and then left without another word.

* * *

Aaron Mitaka joined Commander Jefferson on the command deck. The pilot was silently adjusting the flight route toward the mass relay that would help carry them out of the Terminus system.

"Problem, Commander?" Mitaka asked as he took a position near his CO.

"We caught a blip on the radar." Jefferson replied, his lip fully healed from the incident with Lynn.

It almost made Mitaka chuckle to think of that small woman bloodying the commander's lip. Jefferson had undergone many successful missions for the Alliance and he was highly respected among the troops. It was rumored that he could become captain of his own ship soon.

"Pirates? Batarians?"

"Whats the difference?" Jefferson asked with a weary smile. "They are likely watching us for now to determine our purpose. Hopefully, they'll keep their distance, but. . . if there are more out their, they might get bold."

"We'll stay alert then." Mitaka muttered watching the holographic radar showing their ship and the deceiving emptiness around it.

"How are they?"

"The French girl is fine. She's just a kid, but the other one is asking questions." Mitaka reported. "But I wouldn't worry about Lynn. She has other things on her mind. She notices, but she won't dig too much."

"Lynn?" Jefferson cocked an eyebrow at him.

Mitaka realized his slip and muttered, "You have to consider the circumstances. . . ."

* * *

Colette noticed that she was more depressed after she returned. She kept touching her hair and speaking to her quizzically in French. She even tried to coax Lynn out of her depression by showing her pictures on the datapad. Lynn would only smile sadly at her and reassure her in her own language.

She kept wondering about what her daughter's life was like. What schools did she go to? What sort of friends did she have? What was he like as a teenager and as an adult? What sort of man did she marry and how were their children?

Lynn would never know. And that knowledge stole her soul away.

Two more days passed. Lynn became motivated again and began experiencing cabin fever. She wondered if they could explore the ship. Or if she could be allowed to leave the medical ward?

Her answer was soon answered when Mitaka arrived at her door way and invited her and Colette to eat in the mess hall. She had been attempting to braid Colette's hair into an elaborate style as seen in an old vid.

She stared over Colette's head at him. "We can eat out there?"

"You can. No one said you had to stay in here during the whole trip." He smiled at her showing off perfect white teeth.

Lynn touched Colette's head and the girl turned around to face her. "Colette, do you want to. . ."_mangez?" _She touched her lips with her fingers in a sign of food or eating.

Colette shook her head and made a show of yawning, her palm across her mouth. "_Pas, je n'ai pas faim. Je pense que je veux prendre un somme." _

"Ah, I understand." Lynn got up, moving out of the way allowing the girl to crawl along the covers and tuck herself between them. She grabbed a few tissues and handed them to Colette. "Here, be sure to put these under your nose."

Colette's nosebleeds had not relinquished at all. They came steadily in regular intervals of each hour. One time, they woke up with the pillow case soaked in blood and Colette took to sleeping with tissues under her nose to catch any blood. Lynn was getting worried, but Dr. Paola kept insisting that there was nothing to fear. However, Lynn was determine that another doctor should see Colette as soon as possible.

Mitaka watched them greatly interested. "You can understand her now?"

"Well, I learned a few basic words, but most of our communication is hand motions and sign language that we created between us." She took a moment to rake her fingers through her hair and pull her hair back into a loose ponytail.

Colette watched her from the bed, the blankets tucked up to her chin. She had the tissues poised against her nose. "_Vous êtes très chanceux. Il est très beau."_

Lynn could only assume that the girl was telling her goodnight. She leaned forward, giving the girl a kiss on the head. "You sleep tight, hon."

Mitaka had been watching her. "You and her really hit it off."

"Well, it does help that we are in the same situation together." She smoothed down her shirt, making sure that it was tucked into her pants neatly.

She heard Mitaka chuckle. "You don't have to primp for a bunch of gun totters. These troopers have been in space so long, they don't care if you go in your pjs with a rat nest for hair. Plus, at this time everyone is on duty. The mess hall may be empty."

"I'm sorry. . . I. . . I don't know. . . .I. . . suddenly feel like kid in a new school. I can't help, but wonder how others might see me."

He took the lead, touching her back to guide her out of the medical bay. "Why are you worried about that?"

"Well, it's like you said, I am from one hundred years in the past. You and everyone else is already caught up on the present and I just got here. I mean. . . you understand what I mean." She wrung her hands nervously.

He then laughed, his hand sliding along her shoulder blades. She noticed the pressure for the first time and casted her eyes to the side, her discomfort appearing in her eyes.

"They'll just see you as a pretty lady who just woke up from a long sleep." He removed his hand. She didn't know whether it was because he noticed how uncomfortable it was making her or he felt it time to drop his hand.

The mess hall was very much empty as Mitaka told her. He showed her where the food bar was. He showed her how to turn on the dispenser to distribute a stew into a wide bowl and to her relief, they were even serving Coca Cola. At least some things didn't change.

They sat opposite each other at the nearest table. The stew was bland, but wasn't horrible. A little packet of salt and pepper helped seasoned it making it more palpable. She took a sip of her coke. "I supposed I am not surprise to see that Coke is still around."

"And it'll be around longer yet. They are serving Coke a lot in the Citadel. And not just humans drink it. Other aliens have found it a nice cold caffeine drink and that has resulted in over hundreds of new flavors. But I stick with classic."

"I can understand that." Lynn stirred her stew, giving it a chance to cool before she ate another spoonful. "Tell me about the Aliens. Other than Batarians, are there others I should be aware of?"

"Not really. Aliens are people too. You are going to have your good and bad people in any race. However, some races have more bad than others. Like Krogan." Mitaka set his spoon down, his elbows on the table with is hands flexed together. "A good Krogan needs a reason to stomp you into mush, whereas a bad Krogan just makes up a reason to stomp you into mush."

Lynn chuckled with him at his joke. "Um, is there any aliens who are. . . really nice to us? I mean, that like humanity."

"The Asari would be your alien then. They are the blue women." Mitaka grinned at her mischievously, "And before you ask, no, there are no Asari men."

Her eyebrows rose as she stared at him. "Really? Then how are they able to. . . ."

"Reproduce? That's what is really amazing about them. They can reproduce with any species of any gender. And the kid will always be an Asari girl."

She sat stunned and wondered how such a thing was even possible. "You'll have to explain that one to me."

"Sorry, I'm not a scientist, but from what I do know is that they have amazing cell regeneration. They can heal without scarring and live up to 1000 years. Somehow, they are able to take someone's genetic makeup and use it to create a child. It's complicated to explain. You'd be better off asking an Asari." Mitaka took a long sip from coke and continued, "But they are pretty friendly toward all species. They are pretty popular with the men of our kind."

"I can imagine so." She concentrated for a minute eating her stew and when she was nearly full, she asked the question that had been lagging at the back of her mind. "What happens to us?"

"Hmmm?" Mitaka glanced at her over his plate.

"What will happen to us when we get to Earth?"

"Hmmm, you are going to undergo some tests. Because of the disease and the long period of time you have been in the tanks. But I wouldn't worry. You're acting normal."

Lynn gazed at him. The way the said, 'you're acting normal' tugged at her. He spoke only about her and as if she was separated from the other three. Colette seemed normal, but her nosebleeds weren't. And she hadn't seen the other two; the dark haired quiet woman and the rude thin man. And there were those doors with the bolts. . . .

"What's wrong?" Mitaka touched her chin with two fingertips and tilted it upward. She stared back at him, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. The intensity of his gaze made her glance away. It was as if he was trying to see through her face and into her mind to see what troubled her himself.

That intent gaze. . . that was too much like Gregory's. That direct focus when he gave something his full attention. It made her grieve silently inside for him.

"It's. . . .nothing. I. . . I was thinking about what to do with myself. . . .my family is gone and. . . "

"Your family isn't all gone. . . . "

Then the emergency klaxon's came to life and a voice came over a loud speaker announcing enemy attack.


	3. Taken

"_Where there is a seas, there are pirates."_

-Greek Proverb

She froze with her spoon in hand as the orange lights swiped across her face and the table. While she sat stunned, Mitaka flashed into action, he dropped his spoon and grabbed her arm. He pulled her easily from her seat and propelled her toward the hall they had came from. "Go back to the medical bay and go into your room. Stay there. I'll get you when it's over."

"What. . . .what is happening. . . . ?" Slowly, the realization of the danger was coming to her and her heart quicken as panic began to set in.

"We've been watching them for a while. Likely it was them giving us a warning shot to tell us to stay away. No need to worry."

He released her arm, but she remained in one spot. She wrung her hands, sucking in deep breaths. Had she slept for 100 years to survive a disease only to be killed now? Mitaka startled her by cupping her face with both gloved hands and looking into her face. "Don't be scared. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Maybe he would have kissed her there. She was too numbed with fear to noticed the heat and concern in his eyes and maybe a kiss would have snapped her out of her daze. Whether he would have kissed her or not, it was never known, because at that moment the ship rocked around them, sending them off their feet.

Lynn's head collided against the metal wall and pain spread across her mind and then nothing.

* * *

"This one's alive."

She was lifted up by the front of her shirt. Her head swam with nausea and pain, as if her brain was being stirred with a fork. Her vision blurred and wavered, she could see a face above hers. She must have double vision. The face had two sets of eyes and the face. . . the face was all wrong. She blinked her eyes and as they came into focus, she realized in horror that the face actually had two sets of black eyes. And he had a gun hovering inches from her face.

Her shoulder was seized and she was flipped onto her chest. The barrel of the gun pressed into the back of her head and a deep graveled voice snarled at her. "You start anything and I'll kill you."

She couldn't move on her own. She just couldn't processed what was happening to her. Her wrists were roughly grabbed and crossed at the small of her back. She felt cold metal ensnare her wrists and tighten them together. Then she was hauled up by her hair. She wailed as her scalp protested and her legs scrambled to gain purchase to give slack.

She was shoved forward by a hand on her shoulder and a gun at her back. Her feet hit something hard and she would have fallen if she hadn't been caught by her shirt and yanked back. She looked down and saw the body.

The shrieked tore from her throat and a cuffed to the back of her skull cut it off. "Shut up!"

The dead man was not Mitaka as she had feared. The man's hair was reddish brown, and he was of a smaller build. There was a bleeding hole at left side of his back. Though he had Lynn's deepest sympathies, she was relieved that it was not Mitaka lying dead at her feet.

Her captor forced her to step over the body and coerced her around a corner. She held her breath as she saw two more aliens with guns poised. One was like her captor, though he seemed smaller, possibly younger. The other was a Turian. She remembered reading about his species from the datapad she and Colette had studied not too long ago. He had a dark carapace shell with white markings painted or tattooed onto his face.

"Finally, something for the work." The smaller four eyed . . . Batarian. . . the name just suddenly came to her, muttered as he kicked at another body leaning against the small. It was a woman with a hole in her chest, her hand still cradling a gun.

"Where are the others?" The Turian's voice held a flanging effect that growled at her. When she didn't answer he grabbed her hair and pulled hard enough to make her eyes water. She was yanked forward and the metal barrel of his gun pressed against her cheek. "Where?"

Her lips trembled as she stuttered, "I. . . I don't . . .I don't know. . . ."

The gun whipped her across the jaw. Her lips cut against her teeth and blood dribbled from her lips and down her chin. She moaned as she hung stunned by her hair. She was yanked up again and the gun was held in front of her face. "Where are they!?"

She couldn't tell them where the medical bay was. That was where Colette was. . . .

When she didn't answer, the gun drew back. . . .

She flinched drawing back, "Medical bay!"

She was shoved against the wall where her should banged against the metal where she leaned against it sobbing. Oh God, how could she have done that?

"How much time left?"

"Twenty minutes. Let's go before Aisha gets antsy and leaves us." The Turian shoved her. "Put her forward. She'll give us cover as a hostage."

Again, she was grabbed and a gun was pressed into the small of her back. She was held back by a hand at the link between the cuffs that bound her hands. Was she suppose to lead them?

No, painted on the walls was a red cross with the words medical bay printed beside them. More bodies littered the floor and she weaved and stepped over them as she was urged forward by the gun at her back. The ship rocked again, nearly sending her off her feet once more.

The younger Batarian cursed in his language and muttered, "They do remember that we're on the ship, right?"

"Grevan, shut up and pay a-fucking-ttention!" The elder Batarian snapped. The younger batarian shut up, but glowered at his elder, all four eyes slanting.

Her mind raced of what she should do. Fighting was out of the question. Her hands were bound behind her and there was no way in hell she could fight against the three of them. Running away wasn't possible either. One had a strong grip on her and they could shoot her in the back if she took flight.

The doors to the medical bay was opened and before Lynn could think twice, she screamed, "Colette, hide!"

She instinctively ducked her head. The butt of the gun missed her, but nailed her shoulder instead. She cried out and was sure the blow would leave an ugly bruise on her skin. The doors slid open and she was shoved forward.

Dr. Paola was standing near the medical tables, holding a gun with both hands. The pistol was quivering and sweat and terror gleamed on the doctor's face. "D . . . don't move. . . . "

"Drop the gun." There were clicks as guns were aimed at her and one was aimed at the back of Lynn's head. "We'll kill this one and then kill you."

The standoff might have taken one minute, maybe two. But it was an eternity to Lynn. She kept waiting for something to happen, a gun to go off or for a bullet to enter her brain sending her into whatever waited when you died. What happened was that Dr. Paola lowered her gun, dropping it to the floor.

"Good girl." Grevan smirked and then shot her.

Blood erupted from her left breast and she fell back. A blank, confused look crossed the womans face. Lynn stared, her mouth gaping as the doctor hit the floor. The woman stirred and Lynn saw the panic and despair in her eyes as she knew her time had come. And then the life fled her eyes and she lay still.

"Dammit! Grevan! You just shot away five hundred credits." The elder Batarian hollered.

"Any human who points a gun at me, dies." Grevan responded haughtily. A sick feeling crawled into Lynn's stomach like a nest of snakes.

"Shut up and hurry! She might have alerted someone!"

"We jammed their frequencies before we boarded."

"I don't care. Just hurry!"

She was shoved forward onto her knees and dragged by the hair. She yelped as her legs brushed against Dr. Paola's body as she scrambled to get back on her feet. She was hauled to the dorms and forced onto her knees.

"Torik, work on the locks. I'll get this one." The elder Batarian said to the Turian as he pressed the seal on the dorm Lynn and Colette shared. "Grevan, watch the human and don't shoot the damn merchandise."

He took a position behind her and cocked at his gun at her head. The click was louder than her own heartbeat. The elder Batarian looked inside the dorm and Lynn watched, her heart racing. Did Colette leave the medical bay to somewhere safe?

The Batarian glanced around in the room and stepped inside. Three heart beats later, there was a high scream. There was a sound of a struggle, then a smack as an armored hand slapped an unprotected face. The shriek stifled into a series of gasps and sobs and Colette was pushed outside.

"Look at what was hiding under the bed." The Batarian grabbed Colette's shoulder and yanked her back, coiling an arm around her shoulders and pressed the gun to her temple.

"Please, don't. . . ." Lynn whispered, but was rewarded with a kick to her back.

"_Que faites-vous ? Arrêt!" _Colette whimpered as her wrists were cuffed at the small of her back.

"Why the hell did we leave behind the gags?" Grevan complained snagging Lynn's hair and pushing the gun into her skull. "You know how human females can't shut up."

"Yeah, just like you." The Turian muttered as he hacked the door. The bolt light, flicked over to green and then came the revelation that the doors had actually been locked from the outside. Dr. Paola had lied.

The door slid open and the Turian drew back gasping for air. It didn't take Lynn long to know why. The stench rolled over her like a thick fog and made her eyes water. It was actually hurting her nose and throat, the smell was so bad.

The Turian was cursing and shook his head. "Leave this one. This one is no good. I can smell the sickness from her."

"Fine." The nameless Batarian wheezed. The smell must be especially difficult for him with his multiple nostrils. "Watch this one. I'll open the next door."

Colette was shoved to the Turian, who held his gun to her head and put his arm around her neck. Lynn lean forward, hoping to catch a glance into the dorm that had been beside her. Was the banging that had been Margery trying to get help or get out? What the hell is going on!?

Grevan yanked her to her feet and moved her forward. She was able to get a look. It was dark, but she could still see that the bed was a mess and Lynn cringed when she saw filth on the floor and food smeared on the walls. At first, she believed it was empty, but then she saw a pair of legs extended from around the bed.

"Margery. . . .?" She whispered and an ankle twitched in response.

She was cuffed again and Grevan muttered, "How many blows to the head does it take for you to shut up?"

Lynn craned her head to see the tearful Colette. She was whispering a soft prayer, her head was down and her shaking lips kept moving. Lynn wondered if she was Protestant or Catholic . . .

The bolt of the third door unlocked and then opened. The Nameless Batarian glanced inside.

A male voice spoke. "Shit, you one ugly motherfucker."

"Don't mo-"

A small frame shot out in a blur and collided into the Batarian. The force propel both men back and over exam chair. The man holding her shoved her out of the way and rushed forward.

She stumbled and fell to the floor face first knocking the air out of her lungs. Grevan stood over the grappling men, his gun switched back and forth between the struggling men. "Get off him! Get off him or I'll shoot!"

But he couldn't shoot. He could easily hit his comrade. He tried shooting a warning shot into the floor a foot away from them, but the combatants still writhed until the human man sat up, straddling the Batarian's waist with a fist drawn back.

"Watch out!" Lynn screamed too late.

The man barely slung himself to the side as a bullet ripped through his right side, spraying the floor with blood. The floored Batarian howled with curses as he clutched his bleeding arm. The shot had gone through the man and had ripped into the Batarian's arm.

"GREVAN, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!!!"

Then the medical bay doors open and Mitaka with soldiers poured in, guns up. There were screams of 'don't move'. And shots were fired.

Lynn didn't see any of it. She kept her face down and eyes shut. She could hear Colette screaming hysterically in French, the aliens cursing, and the painful grunts of men getting shot. She felt her ears beginning to hum and she held her breath and mentally recited a prayer over and over. She had been a Protestant.

She shrieked when she was grabbed yet again and lifted up.

"Lynn! It's me!" Mitaka was pulling her up onto her knees and was getting the cuffs off. "Jesus, look what they did to you."

She couldn't see herself, but she could feel the corner of her mouth swelling and the bruises forming on her body where she was manhandled. Even her wrists bore fresh scraps and would bruise soon.

Mitaka was speaking to her and she had to force herself to pay attention. What happened was that the pirates had set a trap. Ships with cloaking capabilities had ambushed the Waver just as it was entering into an asteroid field. While the ships were keeping the crew of the Waver busy, a small ship had docked with the Alliance ship, hacking into the computer's systems, over ride the security systems. They had likely sneaked on board to do a slave grab.

Mitaka had recovered quickly after the ship was hit from a missile attack. He had no choice, but to leave Lynn behind in the hall.

"If I had known. . . goddamn, if I had known that they were on the ship. . . ." He was helping her to her feet and was guiding her to an exam chair that had not been knocked over in the fight.

Lynn looked around and didn't see Colette. "Where. . .where is Colette?"

"They took her." Mitaka said in a grim voice. He wasn't looking at her, he was busy tearing open a medical kit.

Lynn saw that someone had thrown a sheet over Dr. Paola's corpse and two men were seeing to Winter Matthew's injury. There were no sign of the aliens, and there was no sign of Colette. She was gone.

"How. . . .?" She whispered as she felt her chest being carved out leaving her hollow.

"They took her hostage and walked out of here with her. Lynn, I'm sorry." He was cleaning her injuries with a special cleanser. "We'll do what we can to get her back. . . ."

"But. . . Mitaka. . . ." She felt panic filling the hollow of her soul. "You say that as if. . . ."

"We'll get her back, Lynn." His conviction didn't reach his eyes when he finally looked into her face. It was a lie to placate her.

She felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. "Can't you go after them?"

"No, the ship is too damaged. They made damn sure we couldn't escape and we'll be lucky of we get to the mass relay."

"Are they gone? They all left?"

"They did. We. . . we had help." Mitaka muttered in a low tone, his eyes concentrating on her face as he swabbed her bleeding lip.

He was trying to tell her something with his eyes, but she couldn't understand. Nothing was making sense anymore. In fact, she felt more confused and scared then she did when she was told that she had slept for one hundred years.

"Mitaka, we have to talk. I mean, really talk and no bullshitting me about anything." She hissed, suddenly her anger had been found. "What the hell has happened to Margery!? Why was he," she pointed at Winter Matthews, "locked up?"

"Lynn, you're still in shock. I'll give you a sedative. . . and then we can talk." Mitaka pulled out an ampule and a hypo-gun.

"No, I don't want that. I want you to tell me the truth!"

"Yes, tell her the truth. I'm very interested in it myself." It was a deep voice with a flanging effect.

Lynn turned and saw another Turian. Unlike the other Turian, his face was very pale with piercing blue eyes. He was wearing black armor and a shotgun in his hands. The soldiers halted in their tasks when he entered the room and there was a tensity that halted her breath. He wasn't pointing the gun at anyone, but something about him was making a voice inside Lynn's head scream, 'danger'.

"Spectre Saren Arterius," Mitaka dropped the sedative onto the chair and turned to face the Turian. There was tension in his frame and this made her very nervous as he had always been relaxed and laid back around her before. "I didn't know you decided to join us."


	4. Not a Savior

"_It is a sin to believe evil of others, but is seldom a mistake."_

- H. L. Mencken

"I just wanted to make sure that the patients are alright." His voice was cold and there was a lilt to it that seemed mocking. "But it seems that you have lost one."

"We'll get her back." Mitaka replied.

"Don't me laugh, Commander. She's been taken by slavers. She likely already has a slave jack in her head by now."

Mitaka's saying nothing to deny that possibility made her blood run cold. Oh, God, that poor girl. How could this have happened? How could she have led them to her?

She felt nausea, as if she would vomit there on the floor. She even bent forward and had to grip the edge of the exam chair to steady herself. The nausea passed as she took deep breaths. She noticed that Mitaka had moved away and was speaking with Saren in soft harsh tones. They were involved in an argument of sorts.

"Psst. Psst." Then there was a whistle that one would use to summon a dog.

It deeply irked her to be summoned in such a way. That she rewarded the source of the whistle with a dark look. Winter was leaning against the wall and was waving her over. He was alone; the soldiers were moving Dr. Paola's body and seeing to Margery in the dark and filthy room.

She honestly did not wish to speak with Winter. She still remembered their first encounter, but the chances are that his jumping the Batarian had probably saved them by giving the soldiers to get there in time. Or else she would be on the slave ship as well. . . .with Colette.

She didn't know what she was ashamed of more. Her leading the pirates to Colette or feeling happy that she wasn't in the same situation as the poor girl. Getting angry would help her forget, so speaking to Winter might be worth it.

She edged herself off the exam chair and walked over to where Winter was leaning. She noticed that he was pressing a thick wad gauze to his side and it was stained with blood. He looked pale which brought out the brilliance of his multi-colorful strand of hair.

"Are you alright?" She whispered to him. "Do you want me to get someone?"

"Naw, naw, baby doll, I'm fine. Fine is all. Looks worse than it is. I just need duct tape and shot of whiskey and I able bodied to kick more alien ass." He actually winked at her.

Lynn stared at him, not sure if this was the same sullen man she had met one hundred years ago. This man was more opened and friendly, unlike the grouchy and rude man from before. "That's. . . good."

"Watch out for Arty over there." Winter nodded in Saran and Mitaka's direction.

It took her a moment to think about who he was talking about. "You mean. . . Arterius? The Turian man there?"

"Yeah, yeah, him. I know hate when I see it and he's 'bout ta bust with hate. He's over there talkin' 'bout questionin' ya." Winter whispered in a hushed tone.

Lynn glanced over at the talking men, but all she can hear was hushed whispers in sharp words. She couldn't understand what they were saying. "How are able you hear them?"

"I can read Mitaka's lips." He smirked and mimicked Mitaka's voice. ",no, you can't speak to her. She's in shock. I'll answer any of your questions.'"

She watched the speaking men, and when Saren glanced in her direction, she felt ice roll down her spine and she quickly averted her gaze back to Winter.

"Somethin' ain't right." Winter muttered. "Saren knows it, I know it, and I hope to God, you know it too."

She chewed her lip, understanding what he is referring to. "Why were you locked up? Why was Margery locked up?"

"Margery?"

"The dark haired woman."

"Oh, dunno 'bout her. I know they tossed my ass in there when I tried to put someone's eye out with my thumb."

She raised her eyes brows and drew back from him. "What?"

"Ah, naw, I did bite someone, can't remember who. Mighta been the dead chick over there. Anyhoo, ya needa be careful when ya go chat with Arty."

"But, Mitaka doesn't want me to talk with him."

"Don' matter. Arty is a Spectre. Spectre wants, Spectre gets." Winter threw a grim look at Saren.

"I don't follow." She shook her head.

"Didn't ya read the pamphlet thing? What? You didn't just check out the aliens and the styles? You didn't check out the cops? I did, because I wanna know who I gotta outrun in the future."

She wouldn't admit to him that she had studied the new fashions of human women to save her life. She shook her head, "I was more interested in history. What is a Spectre?"

"Okay, think of a cop with no tape." He stated, then noticed her blank face. "Okay, you saw cop shows, right?"

"Yes, I have." She nodded, hoping he'll elaborate on what he was trying to tell her in a way she could understand.

"You know how the cops had to be careful about how they got the crook. Like no arresting or searching without warrants, or torturing crooks for info, or they had to get evidence legally?"

She nodded. "Yes, I know what you are talking about. They had to follow procedure to respect citizen rights. . ."

"Well, Spectres don't have to give a shit about citizen rights. They can do whatever the hell they want as long as it protects peace and stability." Winter explained. "Meaning, that if he thinks that killing you would protect the Council space, then he can unload his pistol into your head and no one can touch him. He won't even see the inside of a jail cell or court house."

She glanced at Saren with newly acquired respect and fear. Mitaka's face was hard as stoned and there was a angry heat behind his eyes. He looked ready to punch Saren who was standing back, looking calmed and very certain of himself.

Winter was following her gaze and have her a wry smile. "Looks like Arty gonna ask his questions. Listen, missy, be careful when he gets you alone. He can do whatever he wants as long as it is in the name of peace and justice and all that jazz."

"He. . . I don't know anything. . . ." She whispered in a low voice.

"He doesn't know that and he'll likely break a few of your fingers before he learns that."

She clutched her fingers against her chest as she imagined it. "St. . . .stop it. You are. . . .just trying to scare me."

"Just do what he wants and act stupid. The smarter you seem, the more he'll think you know something." Winter winked at her again. "Uh oh, here comes trouble."

Mitaka was heading toward them with Saren following close behind him, his small eyes on her. Her skin tingled as if ice was sliding along her flesh. She dropped her gaze and pretended to be inspecting Winter's wound. Maybe they would walk by.

"Ly. . Mrs. Sheridan, Spectre Arterius would like to ask you some questions." Mitaka's words were meant to be said in a light calm tone, but his voice was grim and there was an worried look in his eyes.

"Why?" She heard herself replying as she felt her heart skip.

"It's about the attack." Mitaka replied. "He just has a few questions."

"Yeah, right." Winter smirked up at Mitaka which earned him a nasty look from the Commander.

Wait, something wasn't right. . . .

"Wait, did he call you commander not too long ago?" She asked, looking curiously up at him.

"Commander Jefferson was killed in the line of duty." Mitaka glanced away, a fist clenched at the memory of the explosion on the command deck. Jefferson had suffered severe third degree burns and had died from shock. Mitaka swallowed back bile that threatened to rise at the memory of the melted face, that had once been Jefferson's, wailing with agony before shock took over.

She stood, her hands over mouth and her eyes wide. "Oh, God, Mitaka, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

"Mrs. Sheridan, come with me." Saren voice came out in sharp clips. Back to business, it doesn't matter that someone died or that more than one person died. "This way." He pointed at Dr. Paola's office.

She didn't want to go with him. She didn't want to go with him at all. Yet, she was walking with him toward the office. She could feel both Winter and Mitaka's eyes on her as the door whispered as it open and emitted them into the now dead Dr. Paola.

She felt despair and dread come over her as the door closed behind them and she was cut off from her fellow humans and left alone with an alien whom she feared didn't have friendly intentions toward her. Was this how a mouse felt when it was taken from its cage and dropped into a snake's?

"Sit down." He said without looking at her. He walked around Dr. Paola's desk and took a medical kit from the wall.

She took the chair at the front of the desk and watched him. Now that she was in a calmer setting, she was able to study the alien. It was very strange to see something that she could only imagine being in a movie or vid broadcast was actually in the same room with her breathing and speaking with a mind of its own. She watched him in awed as he opened the med-kit and rifled through it.

He must have found what he sought and pushed the kit aside, but not taking whatever he wanted out. He snapped it shut and pushed it toward her. He then walked around Dr. Paola's desk and sat at her chair. He didn't grant Lynn any of his attention as he opened the drawers and poked around in them.

She felt very uneasy at the sight of the deceased's things being rifled through and wondered if she should say something. However, she felt it wise to say nothing. If he had jurisdiction no matter the circumstances and can do as he felt was necessary without a warrant, then her protests would only get herself into trouble.

He made a pleased sound, it made her think of a deep purr, when he found a folder labeled Dark Disease/Sin on the cover. He flipped it open and spread out the contents. Lynn saw several photos of herself and the other three patients. Her heart sank when she saw Colette's photo.

The girl was in a hospital gown and was holding her hair up to show off the dark mark on her neck. The other two were of Margery and Winter showing off their disease. Margery was holding up her pants leg to reveal the black webbing along her calf and thigh. Winter was shirtless standing with his hands in his pocket looking sullen.

Lynn remembered having her own picture taken and as the memory rose, Saren placed a photo of herself onto the desk. She grimaced seeing herself in such a pose.

Since her disease was more advanced than the others, she had to unbutton the top of her gown and with one hand covering her breast for modesty, she had her picture taken from front, side, and back. It had been embarrassing and it was humiliating now with the alien man studying the photos and taking a small square shaped object from his belt and snapping photos of the pictures.

She swallowed and looked away. It was better for her not to watch if it was going to bother her so much. When he was done, he shuffled the contents back into the folder and dropped it into the drawer and pocketed the camera.

He finally turned his attention to her. "How did it start?"

His sudden question startled her and she quickly answered, "It started at my finger tips. . . I thought it was from marker or something I had touched. I tried washing my hands, to wash it away, but. . .it didn't go away. I went to the doctor when it spread to my knuckles."

She couldn't read alien expressions, but to her, he didn't seem interested in her story at all. He had turned his attention to the medical kit and was pulling it to him while she spoke.

"I'm going to take blood." He stated as he popped open the kit. He drew out a syringe and am ampule for blood deftly with his tri-finger hand.

Lynn bit her lip, she hated needles. When she was child, whether it was a shot or blood test, she had to be held by her mother while the nurse performed the procedure. When she became older, the fear of needles diminished, but she still cared nothing for them.

She extended her arm, laying her forearm on the desk and making a fist. So much blood had been taken from her before and after her sleep that she knew the procedure.

He arranged the syringe with the ampule and walked around the desk to her side. He pulled up a chair opposite hers and without a word tied the band around her arm and tightened it.

Without warning, he plunged the needle into her vein. She sucked in breath as it sank into her skin. Her blood spurted into the ampule and slowly filled it. She drew slow breathes and kept her arm steady.

When the ampule was full, Saren quickly unplugged the ampule and pocketed it in a container at his belt. She swallowed, usually the nurse would slide the needle out, but he had left it in. She drew in a deep breath and Saren glanced at her, his bright blue eyes on her face.

"Don't like needles?" He asked laying a hand on her arm, right below the needle. His hand was covered in a thick armored glove and it felt heavy on her skin.

She shook her head. "No, I don't care for them."

Surely, he was going to take the needle out now. She felt it in her arm as a dull ache, he had stuck it in too deep.

Saren placed a talon tip atop of the syringe where the ampule had plugged into it. He pressed down upon it, pushing it in further.

"Hey!" She hissed through her teeth.

His digit made a circular motion, digging the needle around in her skin, tearing through the vein.

"Stop!" Her hand was caught in a bruising grip when she tried to stop him.

"I have some questions for you." He looked into her face, his digit still rotating the needle.

"O. . . okay. . ." She was breathing through her teeth. "Just. . .stop, please."

He didn't stop.

"You didn't sign up for any programs with the military?"

"What? No, of course not! I. . . I never worked any the military. . ."

The Turian grasped the syringe with two talons and wrenched the needle to the side tearing the vein making her yelp. Blood blossomed up and drizzled over her elbow. She whined which would have turn into a scream if he hadn't grasped the lower part of her face with his hand, muffling it. His large talon easily covered her mouth and jaw and grasped it tight enough to indent her cheeks into her teeth.

"Quiet. Just nod your head." Saren spoke in a low voice that vibrated in her ears. "Now, you say you had no involvement with Earth's military, but. . . .why is it that your name is on a roster for a military program?"

She shook her head. She never signed up for anything like that.

The needle was yanked out, giving her momentary relief, then it was plunged back into a different vein. She whined against his palm. She considered biting

"Are you telling me that you aren't familiar with the DSD program?" Saren said in a casual tone as if he was talking about the weather.

She shook her head. She had never heard of such a thing in her life.

He studied her eyes as he pushed the needle deeper into her flesh. Her arm shook, but remained on the table for fear that the needle would split her arm open. "The treatments did nothing to made the disease retreat?"

She shook her head, her eyes were blurry as tears welled up in her eyes. Her other hand, which had grasped Saren's shoulder, gripped his armor with a white knuckle grip.

"I'm going to let you speak. You scream, and split your arm open with this." He made his point by rotating the needle.

She whined and nodded her head. He slowly lowered his hand from her mouth, but retained a firm grasp on her chin. She gritted her teeth and looked down at her arm.

Blood had rolled down her skin and had dribbled onto the table at her elbow. The sensitive skin was aching and was beginning to bruise. Her lips trembled, as she whimpered, "I'm bleeding. . . ."

"You are, now pay attention." He twisted the needle slowly. "Tell me about the program you signed up for. Give me your version."

It took her a moment to collect herself to whisper, "I was going to die within the year. . . my. . . my sickness was aggressive. They said that I would sleep for five years. . . .then wake up when they hopefully would have a cure or treatment. If they didn't, then I could continue to live out my year or go back to sleep for another five years."

"What treatments were they giving you?"

She went over all the various treatments and medicines. Most of the medicines she didn't know the names of, but he demanded to know what their doses were and when she took them and their effects. She answered all of his questions about the other treatments as well. The chemical peels,

He had stopped moving the needle, but was keeping it steady with a single fingertip on it.

He stared at her, and she stared back, her teeth bared and her cheeks streaked with salty tears. The blood had dried on her arm which sending shots of pain down her forearm and up her shoulder. She finally whispered, "Do you believe me?"

"No." He replied wrenching the needle to the side, opening another blood vein.

"You fucker!" She whined as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Give me something useful." He replied casually thumping the needle with a talon tip in bored sort of way.

"I. . . I answered all of your questions. . . ." She swallowed and then hissed, "So fuck off."

He slapped her. He slapped the same spot that the Turian pirate had pistol whipped earlier. Her teeth rocked in her mouth and she saw dots of light spin before her eyes. She tasted blood was in her mouth and she caught herself swallowing it.

The Turian reached into his slit in his uniform and Lynn feared that he was bringing out a gun or device for torture, but imagine her surprised when it drew out a photo of her daughter.

He slapped it flat on the desk near her and she stared at it in numbing shock. Maria was wearing a white Easter dress with a wide brim hat with a pink ribbon tied around it that came with the dress. She was a holding white baby rabbit with both hands and was smiling up at the camera with a smile that made Lynn forget her pain..

"It's yours if you give me something useful." Saren promised, keeping a finger on the photo, right above her daughter's head.

She hadn't been allowed to take anything with her to the Athena, not even photos. They had told her that there was no sense in it because she would be asleep. Goddamn them.

"Please, don't do this. . . ." She whispered. "I don't know anything else. . ."

He let go of her arm and took up the picture. She drew her arm back, gingerly, protecting it from further abuse. She even pulled the offending needle out of her arm. It was covered in her blood and even looked as it had been bent during her torture, but it was a great relief to have it removed. She dropped it on the floor after abandoning the thought of using it against Saren. She doubt it could go through his armor or even his plating. She highly doubted that he would find it threatening to him at all.

Saren flipped the picture around to look at it. His blue eyes glanced over the image and then lifted to her face "When was this taken?"

"When she was two. . . .before I became sick." She answered automatically.

"She looks happy." He commented.

"She was thrilled about the baby rabbit. . . ." She released a shuddering breath. She very much wanted the picture, it was all that she had of her daughter. "Where did you get that?"

"I'm a Spectre. Nothing is beyond my reach." He stated it as a matter of fact. He held up the photo between both hands in a position to rip it apart.

"No! No! Please, don't. . . ." She begged. She would die if that picture was torn before her.

"Give me something then." He snapped, keeping the tension in the delicate frame.

"What!? What do you want!?" She spoke in a shrilled voice.

"Anything. Anything that I can use." Saren bended the top of the photo in opposite directions. Any further and the material would start to tear.

Something popped into her mind. "The ship. . . I. . .the ship I woke up on. . . it wasn't the Athena."

Saren relaxed his grip on the photo. "Continue."

"I. . . I remember the Athena being so white inside. So very white and clean. . . but. . .when I woke up. . . the ship was gray colored. And. . .the halls were different. . ." She didn't dare mention that she barely remember that time nor that she was just coming out a deep sleep when she notice these things. She wasn't exactly sure herself what she was seeing.

"So you say that you were on a different ship?" He said with some interest.

"I. . . I think so. . . .there was definitely something different when I woke up." She said with sincerity. Her world had changed completely when she woke up.

She watched him mull it over. He still held the photo in his hand and she watched it expecting him to crumble it at any moment. Then he picked up a pen on her Dr. Paola's desk. For one terrifying moment, she actually believed that he was going to disgrace her daughter by drawing glasses and a mustache on her. Instead, he scribble some numbers on the back.

He handed her the photo. "That is my private commlink channel."

She stared at it. It was a lot of numbers, some she recognized and others she couldn't comprehend. It was alien script no doubt. "I. . .I can't understand this."

"They'll teach you at the Citadel." Saren replied sliding the medical kit toward her.

"Citadel? Then she realized that he was talking about. "Wait, we were going to Earth. . . ."

"Not anymore." Saren looked at her, his piercing cold blue eyes sent shivers of fear down her spine. "Do you honestly believe that it was all an accident?"

"What? I don't understand." She was reaching into the med kit and was drawing out septic wipes.

"Your being out in the Terminus system? You think your little ship just drifted out there? No, it was sent out there." Saren stared pointedly at her, watching her reaction to his words. "Then they decide to go on a dangerous mission to retrieve you? Sounds ludicrous, even for the Alliance."

She glanced down at the photo of her daughter. Was it really an accident that separated them? Did Mitaka lie to her? But why? Why send them out into space? It didn't make any sense.

But what also didn't make any sense was why was Margery and Winter locked away? And Colette's constant nosebleeds, and Winter's change of personality? Now that Saren mentioned it, everything, everything that she either didn't noticed or ignored, just didn't seem right and . . .

His hands touched the arms of the chair and leaned over her, his pale face inches from hers. She was breathing his breath as he was likely breathing hers. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and her pulse throbbing in her neck.

"You mean something important to the Alliance. Something they wanted to keep hidden from the Council. Something that will bring them great consequences if it ever got out."

"I. . . .I. . . I don't know." She whispered, pressing the gauze against her arm in terror.

"I believe you don't know. I believe you are a victim in this and that you lost everything because of your government. You may not believe this, but I do want to help you get justice."

"I don't believe you." She hissed, her arm aching under her tight grip. "You can't . . . you can't hurt me like this and tell me you want to help!"

"I do whatever I believe is necessary. Anything that is necessary." He allowed his voice to trail away, leaving the meaning deep into her mind. "You'll keep my number, and you'll keep it hidden from your guardian out there. He might just take it from you."

She glared at him, knowing full well that she would never do anything to give up her daughter, even if it was just an image of her. She wanted to tell him that she would never call him, that she never wanted to see him again. But she feared that saying so would make him take it from her. She could only nod her head.

"Good." He finally pushed himself away from her and stood straight. "Contact me if you find out more about how your own kind had betrayed you and I'll see to it that you get justice."

She watched him leave the office, leaving her alone with her daughter.

A few minutes later, Mitaka came into the room and saw her. "Goddamn that bastard."

He hastily took Saren's place across from her and inspected her arm. She quickly slipped the photo into her pocket while his attention was on her injury. He cursed under his breath as he quickly bandaged her arm and handed her a cold pack from the kit. "Here, hold this against your face. It should stop the swelling."

Oh, God, her face probably look horrible. She dreaded seeing herself in the mirror.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want him to be alone with you, but. . . he pulled Spectre status on me. If I refused him, then. . . he could get my crew into a world of trouble and. . .I couldn't. . . "

"It's alright." She replied. She lifted her face and could see the concern and regret in his eyes and it touched her. "He. . . he didn't hurt me too bad. . . ."

"Still, Saren has a reputation of hating humans. He'd make up a reason to 'put us in our place', you know what I mean?" Mitaka stated, then reached into the medi-kit. "Now you really need that sedative."

"No, Mitaka, what is going to be done about Colette? Is Saren going to do something?"

Mitaka snorted, "He'll call it in, but just save face."

Lynn licked her lips, not wanting the truth, but knew that she needed to know. "What are our chances of getting Colette back? And don't. . . sugar coat it."

Mitaka stared at her for a full three heartbeats and then he said, "The slave ring is very big. Huge. They have many hiding places and many buyers, underground and in the Terminus system. The Alliance has been trying for years to retrieve people who have been kidnapped and they haven't even found a fourth of the colonists stolen."

Lynn swallowed a growing lump in her throat. She felt her face chill and turn numb. "You don't believe we'll ever get her back."

Mitaka shook his head. "No, Lynn, I don't think we'll ever see her again."

"Oh God. . . ." Lynn moaned, covering her bruised face with both hands. Her heart bled out for the poor sweet girl and her shoulders shook at the thought of what those brutal monsters were doing to her now.

Mitaka touched her shoulder and said nothing. There wasn't anything he can say to make it better, or ease the pain and loss behind his words. "I'm sorry, Lynn. I knew you two became close. . . I'm. . . very sorry."

She didn't know how long she wept. Her heart going out for the poor girl. She finally lifted her face and wiped her eyes. She took a shuddering breath and asked, "Mitaka, is there anything that I should know? Anything about the incident, anything else that I wasn't told about?"

Mitaka drew back, sitting straighter. She watched him swallow nervously and he replied, "I told you everything, Lynn."

"Don't. . . just don't. . ." She held up a hand.

"What did he tell you?" Mitaka gritted his teeth, grabbing her shoulders. "What the hell did that bastard tell you?"

"He pointed out a lot of things to me." Lynn answered calmly. She was surprised at how calm she was compared to all that had happen to her in the last few hours. Was it really a few hours ago that she was calmly eating with Mitaka earlier? "I want to know why Margery and Winter were locked away."

"It was for their own safety, I swear." Mitaka assured her in smoothing his palms along her upper arms. "They. . .they aren't mentally stable. We don't know if it from the long sleep or the disease."

"Could I become mentally unstable?" Lynn said in a very calm tone.

"No, no, you're fine. You never did anything. . . unusual when you woke up and neither did Colette. That's why we allowed you two to move freely. We never intended for any of you to be prisoners."

"Why keep it from us? Why not tell Colette or me about locking them away?"

"Because we didn't want to give you anymore stress. Jesus, you two had just lost your families, your homes, everything you knew. We. . . .I. . . wanted to make it easier for you in anyway possible."

Lynn shook her head. "I don't know."

"Lynn!" Mitaka threw his hands up in frustration. "I have given you no reason not to trust me. I care about you, Lynn. I really do."

"Saren said that we're going tot he Citadel. . . is that true?"

"Yes." Mitaka released a long sigh. "Saren pretty much ordered us to go to the Citadel. We. . . the problem is that Citadel Space doesn't exactly get along well with the Terminus system. And since we're part of the Citadel, well, us being out here could be seen as an act of war on the Council's part. So, the Alliance might be in a bit of trouble over this."

"So. . .what happens to me. . . .to us." Lynn muttered.

"Margery. . . she'll be taken to a facility to be given the help she needs. You. . .and Winter, if he behaves, will be provided for." Mitaka promised. "We'll give you each an apartment in a nice suburban district. I'll see to it that you both start your lives anew. I promise."

For some reason, she didn't feel any better.

* * *

Mitaka hated giving a report to his superiors. That was one of the reasons he rather be a follower than a leader. However, Jefferson's death had propelled him into an unwanted leadership position.

It took a while for the communications to locate the satellite that would propelling his transmission to his superiors, but find it, it did. The screen flicked on and showed the grizzled face of Colonel Sykes. The man was in his forties, his dark hair turning gray at the temples and his face set in an no nonsense firmness.

"Where is Jefferson?" The Colonel inclined his head, peering at him with dark eyes.

"Sir, I have some news."

Twenty minutes later, the heard lines on the Colonel's face creased and deepened. He narrowed his eyes at him and growled, "This is unacceptable, Mitaka."

"Sir, I understood that it was a well known fact that pirates prowl these parts of space." Mitaka said in a smooth tone.

"Don't you dare get smart with me, you little shit. You and your crew has just put the Alliance in a very bad spot with the Council. And you know that that goddamn Turian is going to embellish his report to put us further in the hole."

"Would it have made it any better if we had refused him access to the patients after he helped chase away the pirates?" This was the part that Mitaka hated more than anything about being leader. You were the one who got blamed for things you had no control over.

"He likely has been tailing you the whole time and saw a moment of opportunity and took it!" The Colonel slammed his fist down on his console. "Goddamit, we should have just left the subjects to rot out there." Mitaka glared at the screen and the Colonel smirked at him, "Oh, yes, I forgot about the reason behind your begging to be part of this mission."

"What are my orders?" Mitaka blurted, hoping to move the report along.

"Take them to the Citadel. And I am putting you in charge of watching both subjects 001 and 004. Perhaps we can salvage something from this disaster."

"Subject 004 is already showing signs of his DSD enhancement, but 001, she is still not showing any signs. . . ." Mitaka started, but he was cut off.

"That doesn't matter. She could start showing signs at any given time. I want her watched closely, because she's the one we have to worry about. You know what you have to do if becomes as out of control as 004? Make it quick and quiet as possible."

"Yes sir."


	5. Little Girl Lost

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The reason I am rewriting this chapter is because I was not pleased with the original chapter. The story is somewhat the same in this chapter as the original, but with many differences.

There were a few things I had planned on, but after thinking on them later, made me realized was the right way to go.

Thus this chapter rewrite.

Enjoy.

_* * * _

"_Fear is an emotion indispensable for survival."_

-Hannah Arendt

"You fucking stupid krogan turd!" Grevan's uncle, Brujah, snarled as an Asari cleansed his wounded arm with a antiseptic chemical.

"What!? I was helping you!" Grevan snarled, both sets of eyes narrowed.

Brujah cursed at the Asari as she applied Medi-gel to his wound. "Watch it! Goddammit!"

The Asari's sensual blue lips smirked, "You fuss more than a human baby."

"Don't compare me to humans." The Batarian spat foully. "Has Torik taken the human to the holding cell?"

"Yes, he says that he made sure she was tucked in tight with a bedtime story." Aisha, the Asari, muttered. She began gathering the medical supplies and putting them away.

"He better be gentle with her. She's our only payout for that fuck up of a job back there. Goddamn, who the hell thought a Spectre would come all the way out here!"

"My guess is that the Alliance ship didn't know it was following them." The Asari offered as she set the medi-kit away in a container attached to the far wall. "You know the Council would not dare allow any military vessels out this far in the Terminus systems."

"I don't give a fuck why they were out there. Just put space between us and the human ship." He pulled the sleeve down his arm and reclaimed the armor that had failed to protect his arm from his own nephew's shot. "Get me a line to Grina Yoris. I want to set up a deal, get this human female off our hands."

* * *

Within two hours, Brujah, the Batarian slaver, and Grina Yoris, a Volus merchant in underground market of slaves and illegal items were in contact. According to the Volus, the girl's youth and attractive qualities made her an excellent prize that top buyers in Omega would be interested in.

Grina Yoris cycled the human girl's image through several black market extranet sites and was contacted by interested buyers within the hour. By the time, Brujah ended communications, they had already arranged for a buyer to receive the girl upon arrival in Omega.

The buyer was surprisingly a Turian ex-merc who ran a syndicate that smuggled illegal mods and weapons. He had been a veteran of the First Contact war and rumor has it that he had suffered severe injuries and scarring. Whether the Turian had developed a fetish for human females or just wanted one to torture for his scarring, it didn't matter as long as he was able to pay.

Brujah took a long drag on a stim-stick, smoke drawing up in a straight line from the lit end. Smart move to distribute the girl as a potential concubine instead of manual labor that most slaves were sold as.

The ship took some damage in the attack. He arranged for Aisha to plot a course to a small ice planet where a stash of supplies and some loot was kept. A day for them to make repairs and restock on supplies and they'll be able to make it to Omega to make their delivery

* * *

Grevan was pissed. His uncle was an asshole and it wasn't by choice that he was part of his crew. His father was Brujah's younger brother and he was his father's youngest son, therefore, when uncle requested members for his crew, he was selected to go and he had no say in the matter.

One of these days, he was going to run his own ship with his own crew and his uncle and his father can go straight to the Lower Hells.

His uncle told him not to go near the girl and that further pissed him off. His uncle usually didn't mind if his crew took some "liberties" with newly acquired slaves. After the disaster attack of the Alliance, he could use some fun to let off the steam and irritation.

But no, the girl was what his uncle called, precious cargo; cargo that is going to a valued customer who preferred undamaged goods. He wanted to keep her in the holding cell until they arrived at Omega. Then she would be handed over to a potential buyer.

And it was to the holding cells that Grevan was heading toward.

* * *

The cell was square shape and very small. It contained a bench tilted down from the wall and a single toilet across from it. It offered very little privacy.

Colette was huddled in the corner, between the wall and the foot of the cott. Her arms were around her folded legs and she rested her brow on her forehead. Her shoulders shook as she took deep shuddering breaths.

She didn't know who these aliens were and why she was kidnapped. The poor girl had no idea what was in store for her, and that was what terrified her the most. At least she knew what to dread.

For all she knew, these things could be planning on eating her.

Colette came from an sheltered background. She was the only daughter of a wealthy man who was a descendant of a line line of French Aristocrats. He swore that he could trace their family tree back to before the French Revolution.

Her mother had been a wealthy half French and German woman who ran her own chain of 5 star hotels and restaurants. Their marriage had been one of business, but they did take good care of their children.

Colette's brother, Nicolas, had been her father's heir and favorite child. Whereas he was able to stay home and be taught by private tutors, she had been sent to a private Catholic school for girls. It had been a prestigious school that taught girls how to be young women.

The Sisters were kind, but very strict about behavior, manners, and schoolwork. Of course, the girls had their own cliques and Colette was part of a circle of friends herself. But those friends dwindled when her disease appeared on her neck on morning.

It had started as a light bruise and then over a course of a week had darken into black stain that webbed out across her neck and shoulder. Before the weekend was over, she was on a transport home. The faculty did not want the presence of Sin in their school.

Sin. That was people had called the disease. It was dubbed as such by religious groups and the name just stuck which led to misunderstandings. People began to believe that a victim of the disease had done something very wrong to be marked by God as a Sinner.

Colette often pondered what she did to earn such a mark. She wasn't perfect. She had cursed, gossiped, and even though ill things about others. But surely that wasn't enough to warrant to become a Sinner. If that was so, then all the girls would have ugly black marks on their bodies by now.

Her parents had sent her to the best doctors in the country and when Colette's condition had been accepted in the cryo-genesis program, they signed her up before informing her about it.

She didn't want to do it. She wanted to try other options, other treatments, but her parents insisted that it was for the best. For her or for them, she wasn't sure.

Now here she was, away from her home and in the grasp of aliens. She prayed to God. She prayed for guidance, strength, and for protection.

God answered her prayer, but it came in a terrifying way.

* * *

She had dozed off. Her head propped against the wall, her legs nearly unfolding before her. Her eyes lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she dreamed of a life that was gone forever.

She was ripped from that dream when the doors hissed open and in strode a batarian. She blinked her eyes, her hands rubbing her face to make herself wake up. He spoke to her in a deep harsh tone and she stared at him not comprehending his speech.

She got to her feet and stood with her back to the wall and her hands clasped together against her chest. The creature's eyes, all four of them, bore into her with distaste. Then it snapped at her in a guttural language she couldn't comprehend.

She shook her head, her face blank of understanding. The thing spat at her and began undoing the clasp at his waist and the pack containing his guns came loose. He swung the pack from his back and set it onto the cot. His four eyes glanced at her expectantly and her pulse thumped in her neck.

She sidestepped to the far corner and pressed herself into it. He was making a come here motion with a thrust of his hand. She shook her head. No, she would not go willingly to him. He would have to get her if he wanted her for what she feared.

He cursed at her in his own language and stalked forward to grab her. She yelp, throwing herself to the side, getting herself out of his reach. He glared at her and bared his sharp teeth. She slid against the wall to where she was across from the berth where his. . . .weapons laid.

She fought not to glance at them, lest he realized his stupid mistake. She kept her eyes on him. She was pissing him off and he had a fist clenched. She knew he was going to try to hit her before he did.

He swung.

She ducked and flung herself forward. Her hands closed around the butt of the rifle. She back of her shirt was snagged and she was yanked backward. Her hand did not relinquished the gun. It was pulled from the back, dragging it onto the ground with a metallic clang.

He backhanded hit her across the face. She yelped and tasted blood in her mouth. She brought up the rifle to ward off another blow and then realized her mistake when he grabbed it and attempted to pull it from her. She shrieked, her fingers seeking the trigger.

He snarled at her and shoved her back, trying to shake her loose. She held on. A voice in her head was screaming at her to hold onto the weapon. He would kill her if she lost it. She held onto it so hard, her hands hurt. She kicked at his legs, and he swung her around, off her feet, but she held on.

Her finger found the trigger and pulled.

The spurts of bullets startled them both. He released the rifle, and she remained holding it in her vice like grip. Her body acted without her mind. Later, she would swear that she left her body and watched herself do this. She swung it by the barrel and swung it with all her might.

The butt collided with the side of his face and he grunted. She swung it again. The butt caught him in the right eyes. His protruding eye sockets protected his dark eyes from damage, but it was painful nonetheless. The blow propelled him against the wall where he slide down onto the floor, clutching his face.

She turned and fled, her hand reach out for the door. Her ankle was snagged. She was pulled off her feet and she hit the floor face down. She lay on the floor stunned, the rifle still in her grip as she was dragged back. She felt a hand on her her arm and she yelled.

She twisted onto her back, bring the rifle around with her. He was kneeling above her, the right side of his face bruised and a streamer of blood curling down his cheek. She brought her foot against his shoulder, trying to keep him away. He pushed forward, forcing her knee almost to her shoulder. He was trying to get the gun.

She brought the butt against his face. She slammed it over and over into his face. Blood burst from his nose and he grunted. The next blow caught him in the mouth and his lips were cut on his sharp teeth. He collapsed onto the girl, his full weight on her.

She squealed, kicking and pushing at his shoulders with all her strength. She wriggled out from beneath him and sat up. She placed the rifle across her lap and panted, her hair was tangled and her face was red and strained.

A low groan came from the alien. He began shifting, getting his hands under him to push up. She screamed bring up the rifle to her shoulder and aimed it at his head. She squeezed the trigger and his head exploded in blood and gore.

She threw the rifle aside and made it in time to the toilet and vomited.

She hunkered against the toilet trembling. The adrenaline and fear was evaporating and she was just so tired. She wanted to curl up in a warm blanket and just forget. Just forget the past minutes.

She glanced at the prone legs. She refused to see the bleed orifice that had been his face. She had to get out of there, to get away from what has happened and what nearly happened. But she couldn't' bring herself to touch the rifle.

Fortunately, the pack came with other guns. She found an oddly shaped pistol that was easy for her hand to grasp. She held it with one hand, her right and then tested the door. It opened without a qualm at the touch of a seal. She left the room with gun in hand and a loss of innocence she'll never get back.

* * *

Torik hated Grevan. Grevan was a whining little brat who was kept around because of his relationship to Capitain Brujah. Grevan was likely in the holding cells downgrading the value of the human girl. Damn, they were not only going to loose money, but disappoint an elite of Omega. As a rule, you avoided doing that at all costs.

He turned the corner and drew his shotgun. Standing in the middle of the call, with her back to him was the human girl. He could tell it was her by the long, long blond hair trailing down her back. "Don't move!"

The girl froze, her shoulders hunch and frozen. How the hell did she get out? Doubtlessly, Grevan has tried something with her and she had gotten loose. He walked casually behind her, clicking his shotgun into place at the small of his back.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "C'mon, honey, you need to go. . . back. . . ."

The pistol fired and Torik was no more.

* * *

She didn't know why she kept the gun hidden against her breasts. She didn't understand why her body raised the gun into his face and fired. She held the smoking gun and stared at the dead alien. His face was gone too.

Her nose was bleeding. She could feel the blood rolling down her lips and chin.

* * *

"The girl is out and she just killed Torik." Aisha muttered watching a security vid distastefully.

"What the fuck!?" Brujah snarled glaring at the vid of the girl turning a corner leaving behind a valued member of his crew dead. "Shit!"

"Don't worry about it. We're on a ship. She can't go anywhere and we're near the planet now. Do you want me to wait until we take care of the human to land?"

'Yeah. I'm using restraints on her ass."

Usually when a slave gave him trouble, he cut off a finger if he didn't outright put them down, but a buyer had already put down money on this girl and more was to come if she was delivered in one piece. He quickly turned to his communication channel to order the crew to corner her and take her back to her cell unharmed.

But then he heard Aisha curse.

"Blue Suns." She hissed as she brought up an image of a painted blue ship with their logo on the hull.

"Goddamn!" He hissed turning to the vids. "Have they attempted to hail us?"

"No." Aisha muttered strengthening the ship's shields. "I don't like their approach."

"Fuck!" He slammed a fist onto arm of his command chair. "They were

* * *

The fight was simple and clean. Pirate ship was too damaged by the Spectre's torpedoes. A missile from the Blue Suns ship took it down neat and clean by firing out the engine watching it fall to the planet below.

Any escape pods that shot out from the ship was collected for bounties by the merc ship. Then it simply waited for the main ship to crash into the planet below.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the planet's surface. . . .

The snow was billowing against the slopes, piling against the window, nearly blocking out the very distant sun. Usually, he knocked against the window to shake the snow loose, but he was too tired to care. He had spent the morning, trying to repair the skiff. He could strangle that Volus who sold it to him.

Not six months into his Pilgrimage, he was doomed to die on an ice planet.

The Quarian lifted his covered head from his cot and stare out the round window and longed for warmer climates or temperature controlled ships. His enviro-suit kept him warm enough, but at night, when what little warmth the distant star provided set over the horizon, he could feel the cold nipping at his body.

He had to get off planet. He had a week supply of food left and power in his ship was running short. He would either need to leave the planet or die.

Lin'Noa nar Seris preferred not to die before he became an adult in his people's eyes.

He heard a roar, and the receiver flared to life, telling him that a ship was coming. He was motivated to move then. He shoved himself to his feet and he knocked hard against the glass to shake loose the building snow. He stared out the window as a ship descended from the sky.

Hope flooded his spirit as he saw a way off this planet. He could offer his services to the crew as a mechanic. If there was anything that the Quarians were respected for, was there prowess with ships.

Then he noticed something. The ship was not slowing down. In fact, it was wavering, and the wings were not tilting in an attempt to steady it. Something was wrong.

Then he noticed the streaks of glowing flames from the engines. The ship was going to crash.

His chances for aid was slipping as he watched the ship accelerate to the surface. It disappeared behind an escarpment, but he could see the drift of snow lift up in a snowy explosion, and then a bit later, smoke drifted up, marking where it had crashed.

Lin stared out the window, his mind going over his options. He knew that ship didn't crash from faulty engines. The ship had been attacked. Engines didn't burn like that unless they were hit by offensive fire. Possibly by pirates or mercs.

He watched the sky, but didn't see a following ship land. But that didn't mean that one couldn't come later.

If he stayed, he would be safe from the pirates or mercs, but likely either freeze or starve to death within a week or more. If he went out to the fallen ship, he could find supplies or a way off this planet, but he could run afoul of whoever shot that ship down.

Lin thought it over and then made his decision. He had some walking to do.

* * *

The walk was long and treacherous. He had to tread carefully, lest he sink into deep crevasse in the ground. Despite his care, a few times he had sank waist deep into the snow and had to dig himself out with his rifle. The climb down the escarpment had to have been the most dangerous thing he had ever done.

It certainly topped his attempting to steal a Krogan's skiff not knowing that the owner was asleep in the in the back.

Lin punched the pin into the icy rock and looped the cord through th loops at his belt. He carefully, slowly, lowered himself down the edge, his hands holding a firm grip on the cords. It took half an hour for him to descend, but it was an half an hour of hell. So many times, his feet would slip and he would have several panicking moments of grabbing at the ice to stop his fall.

When his feet touched solid ground, he nearly collapsed with relief. He left the cord, in case he needed to climb back up, but he hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Hopefully, who ever survived would accept his help in repairing the ship and getting off the planet. Or if there were no survivors, he could repair the ship himself and leave the planet. Or worst care scenario, he could scrap some parts together to repair his skiff, but it's going to be awful getting those parts up the escarpment.

And those are possibilities that didn't include whomever shot the ship down attacking him too. Damn.

No, he would worry about it if it was necessary. His mother had often told him to save time what worrying about what is. Not what could be. So first things, first, he had to see about the ship ahead.

The snow had melted and refrozen into a sheet of slippery ice. His feet kept slipping on the ice and he had to struggle to gain purchase as he drew closer, The ship was of Turian design, but it was painted with pirate insignias. The front had burrowed into a large snow drift, covering the front in whiteness. With the planet's constant snowing, the ship would become part of the snowdrift.

Lin drew his rifle from his back. There was a still strong possibility of them accepting his help. Pirates and smugglers had often incorporated help of Quarians because of their skills.

However, that didn't mean that pirates had never attacked a Quarian or tried to take one permanently as a slave.

He called out a greeting, but received no answer. He listened for any source of noise, but only heard the soft whistle of the wind. He touched the seal at the hatch and cocked his rifle up as it hissed opened.

His omni-tool detected no life signs, at least in this area. He carefully went up the hall at his right and turned the corner. He kept his rifle at attention, he was here to help, but not to be taken.

He could hear the metal creak and the fire crackling. The ship was more damaged than he had predicted. It would take a whole team to repair this ship with several parts replaced. His remaining hope was that he could salvage the parts he needed to repair his own skiff.

Then he saw the dead turian. The turian had been shot in the face. Lin didn't bother to check to see if he was alive. There was too much dark blood on the ground and he doubted anyone could survive a gunshot to the face.

What concerned him is that there apparently was infighting aboard the ship? Did the attackers board the ship? Were they still on the ship?

He heard a sound behind him and a bullet ping the floor near his foot. He spun and shot, throwing himself against the wall for what little cover it could offer. His shot was true, and a human male dropped to the floor with a bleeding throat.

Lin panted, his heart thrumming in his ears as the man choked on his own blood and died. He listened and waited. There was only silence.

He had been careless. He had directed too much of his attention to the dead Turian and not enough on his surroundings. He could hear trainer Kal'Reegar berating him now for his inattentiveness.

He made sure his rifle was reloaded, the dead bodies forgotten and he continue on his way. He passed several more dead bodies that were charred and broken. A result of an explosion, as the metal had melted and bits of flame were dying out on the limbs of the dead.

He stepped over the bodies, glad that his bio-suit protected him from any horrible smells that he was sure lingered in the air. His suit did allow him to hear the keening sobs.

He edges toward a door further down the hall. A dead asari leaned against the wall with her legs outstretched. There was a look of shot and death in her eyes and a large bullet hole in her chest. Her pistol remained in her holster.

The keening had become louder as he drew closer to the door the asari had died across from. He stood at the side, leaning against the wall beside it and rapped the back of his gloved hand against the metal. The keening stopped and there was silence.

He waited a moment, then he pressed the seal. The door opened and still the silence hung heavy in the air. He counted silently in his head to ten and then swung around with the rifle in hand.

He came face to face with a human girl holding a pistol in trembling hands. He kept his finger on the trigger and stared back at her.

She was petite, shorter than him with a smaller frame. She was younger too, a few years his junior he guessed. She had very long yellow hair that hung in a tangled curls down her back and shoulders. What caught his attention was the blood at her nose and mouth. Blood was rolling down from her nose and over lips. She blew, to keep the blood from entering her mouth and it rolled down her chin. She even had bruises about her face and her blue eyes stared at him in terror.

They stayed in that stalemate for several minutes. His rifle aimed at her head, her pistol aimed at his mask. Her terror was apparent, in her soft gasps and the quivering gun while his terror was silent but no less than hers. His training and experience kept his rifle steady and motionless.

Should he shoot? Should he wait until she is distracted and shoot? What if she shot him first? Would he duck in time or would she kill him or put wound him, tearing his bio-suit and making him vulnerable to infection.

"_Svp, aller-en."_ The girl whispered through bloody lips.

His translator might be glitching, or maybe she was speaking a language that it wasn't programed for. "Put down your gun."

A confused look crossed her eyes. She didn't understand him. She didn't have a translator. Her fingers tightened on the gun.

He raised his voice. "Put it down. . . ."

She pulled the trigger.

It clicked empty.

His finger was squeezing the trigger before he realized that her gun was empty. A pulse of bullets sprayed. He averted the rifle at the last possible instant.

She stood motionless, her eyes wide and a trickle of blood rolled down her cheek from the bullet graze. He held his rifle up, harmlessly aimed at the ceiling. He nearly killed her, he nearly killed someone who was literally unarmed.

She shrieked and threw the pistol. It nailed his shoulder and he cursed in shock and pain. She turned and ran. She curled herself tight a tight ball between two lockers, whimpering. He panted, staring after her as guilt stung him.

Speaking to her would do no good. She didn't understand him nor could he understand her. Better to leave her alone then frighten her more. He left, shutting the door behind him. Maybe she would be safer here anyway. He would come back once he was sure the ship was safe.

The next place to head to was the command deck. Maybe he could find out exactly what happened. He made his way carefully, check each corner before he turned them and listening for any sound or motion before his eyes.

He felt a sense of dread as he traveled. He wanted very much to leave this ship and go back to his skiff, but if he did that, then he had doomed himself to a slow death. No, it was better to get aid or even be shot to death, then to die like that.

As he headed up the command deck, he noticed that there were more shot up dead bodies. Likely, there had been an attempted mutiny, or maybe the attacker had boarded the vessel. And the bodies laid backward as if they were facing the command deck and shots from that direction. Lin hefted his rifle up and took the dive into hell.

He approached the door and it opened with a soft hiss. An explosion of sound and his audio receptor of his helmet caught the zing of a bullet and then the echo of the bullet hitting the back wall.

"Don't move, you fucker." A deep voice moaned. "Don't fucking move."

A batarian slump in the captain's seat holding a pistol in one hand and his other hand was gone, along with the arm at the elbow. His upper arm had a belt tied tightly around it to stem the blood flow, but there was still a reddish trickle that created a small puddle on the floor at his boots.

Despite his grave injury, there was a harsh flame behind all hour of his black eyes. "Don't. Fucking. Move." He repeated through sharp bloodied teeth. "Hellish Demon. You quarians didn't even wait until the bodies are cold before you come swooping in. . . .like filthy scavengers. Only difference between you and vorcha are the bio-suits."

"I came out here to help." Lin muttered, keeping a tight grip on his rifle. He kept switching his gaze from the batarian's face and the gun. The batarian had the advantage here. He could watch both Lin and the rifle at the same time. . . .but then, Lin doubted very much that he could see through his visor. "I can help you with your injury and maybe get us off planet. You need medical treatment or you are going to bleed to death or go into shock."

"Fuck you." The batarian snapped. "Drop the weapon, now."

One thing that Lin was taught was never to never give up his weapon. Never. Right now they were at an even level of power over each other. Actually, he was in a higher poisition of power than the batarian; eventually he was going to pass out or die

"No." Lin replied evenly. "What are you going to do? Take me prisoner? Kill me? What? Are you going to fix this ship by yourself with one hand? Are you going to find my skiff? Trust me, it's miles away and it doesn't work. I'm your best chance of getting off this planet."

There was long heavy silence between them. Then the batarian lowered his pistol and cursed, "How the hell do I know you're not gonna run off with loot?"

"How am I going to run off with power cells for this ship? I'm a quarian, not a krogan." Lin lowered his gun, letting it rest against his torso, where it was non-threatening, but he could lift it up in an instant in case the batarian changed his mind. "And the power cells won't fit in my skiff anyway."

"If you can't repair the ship?"

"Then we can at least boost a signal for aid."

"Too risky." The batarian replied nastily. "Blue Suns is still out there."

"Then we wait for them to leave and hide if they go planet side looking for you. We can hide the ship; you crashed into a snow drift. This planet is always snowing so it'll be covered soon or I can help it along by burying it."

The batarian mulled it over and then gave sharp nod. "Fine. But I don't trust your quarian ass. If you try any shit with me then. . . ." He coughed, a long raspy chest rattling coughs. He spat on the floor, which left a pinkish smear and then glared at the quarian. "Then I'll take my chances alone."

"What happened to your crew?" Lin cautiously approached the flight controls.

"They wanted to surrender. I said no, the Blue Suns weren't getting a bounty off me. So we settled our disagreement." The batarian said with a throaty laugh.

"I saw some dead bodies near the engine room." Lin muttered bring the console to life and typing in a few keystrokes. Something in his mind told him not to mention the girl. He suddenly had a sick feeling concerning her.

"You see a human girl?" The batarian barked, leaning forward painfully.

"A human girl?" Lin asked with a lilt in his voice. His sick feeling was growing heavier in his stomach.

"Yeah, was taking her to Omega. There's a buyer there who is willing take her off my hands for a handsome fee. You get me to Omega and I'll give you five percent."

"I don't see how a single slave is worth a reward fee." Lin muttered, fishing for more information.

"You let me worry about that." The batarian replied, distrustfully. "Did you or did you not see her?"

"No."

* * *

Colette was in misery. She had been knocked unconscious when the ship suddenly rocketed throwing her against the wall. The side of her face was bruised and her arm hurt when it collided with the hard metal. The collision had rendered her unconscious temporarily to awaken to an asari trying to haul her up.

Colette had pushed away, toppling back onto her rear to see the asari look venomously at her. The air around her began to waver and tint to blue. Colette could never explain what happened next. Within a flow of movement, she had snagged the pistol from where it had fallen and took aim and shot. The bullet caught the asari in the chest, throwing her back against the wall. She died with a shocked look in her eyes.

She had crawled into this storage room, keeping the gun tightly in her hand. She wasn't sure how long she had stayed in the room, hiding among the toppled lockers and scattered tools weeping. Then the alien came and nearly shot her.

As much as she was frightened by the killing power of the pistol, it terrified her that it was out of ammo. She was going to die or be captured and punished by aliens. She began to wish that she had just let that four eyed alien do what he wanted.

No, that was too disgusting. Just too disgusting. Imagining it made her gag.

It was getting cold too. So very cold. Why was the temperature dropping?

The door whispered open. She cringed in the corner, her head ducking low nearly between her knees and her arms covering it. The footsteps approached her, coming closer and closer with each step.

One of two things were going to happen. The alien was going to kill her or restrain her and put her back in the cell. She didn't want to go back into the cell. She still didn't understand what they wanted her for.

The footsteps stopped right behind her. She pushed herself up as she heard the creature behind her kneel. He touched her shoulder and turned her around. She expected to see a gun in her face or even a blow to follow.

She stared at the offered antiseptic wipe in his a tri-digit hand. She took a comprehend what he was offering her. He held it closer to her and she accepted it. It felt cool and clean to her fingers and she used it to wipe her nose and mouth.

She stared at him as she did so. He was the same alien that had nearly shot her. Through his purple tinted visor, she could make out a straight nose and glowing silvery eyes. Beyond that, the rest of his facial features were vagued. His space suit was a light purple color with reddish strap across his chest.

His torso seemed longer than humans, and his legs were shaped oddly, it made her think of a bird's legs. He even seemed to have a lighter frame than a human male. He spoke to her, and she could not understand him at all.

He edged a white box toward her and she recognized it as a medical kit such as the ones Dr. Paola had her in medbay. He took a small tube with a bluish gel withing and twisted the top off. He applied the gel to the graze on her cheek and a thin layer along the bruises at the right side of her face. She recognized it has medi-gel; some sort of miracle medicine of the future. It was soothing her pains as soon as it touched her skin.

She choked on her sobs, fresh tears trailing down her cheeks. He spoke softly to her, a hand on her shoulder, consoling her. He pushed a bottle of water into her hand and spoke in an encouraging tone.

She tossed back her head and drank deep. She gulp the water, not realizing how thirsty she was before. And when he held out a ration packet, she grabbed that, tearing off the paper and biting into it. She ate the square ration no bigger than a deck of cards in three bites. She panted, a little embarrassed by her gluttonous behavior. Her mother would be shocked at her manners.

"Please, take me home." She begged him,. "I just want to go home."

She wasn't sure if he understood her or not. He spoke to her again. She couldn't understand him. What was he telling her? Was he saying that everything was going to be okay? Was he telling her that she was going home?

She broke. She covered her face with her hands and wailed. He was alarmed by her high keening and spoke to her in a hushed tone, trying to quiet her. He had his hands on her shoulders, his helmeted head bent over hers.

* * *

"Shhh, stop, stop." Lin whispered to her.

When the batarian finally passed out from the pain of his injuries, he had taken this chance to bring her medicine and food. The girl was in good condition despite bumps and bruises and the thin scratch at her cheek.

Only Keelah's intervention that kept him from turning her face into a bloody crater. He had been around humans before. Mercs, humans scraping a living on Omega, or merchants that hurried him from their stores. But none of them had her coloring. She had pretty eyes; they were the same shade of blue giant stars before they go supernovae in the brilliant light that was her hair. Of course, there were humans with blond hair and blue eyes due to their aesthetic modifications, but she just seemed to glow with an untouched spirit that hasn't been hampered by cruelty of life.

She was clutching at his arms, her shoulders shaking from her sobs. He waited for her to calm down by letting her cry, only quietly hushing her when she became too loud. He was sure that the batarian couldn't hear from the bow.

She finally wiped her eyes with back of her hand, seeming to have calmed down. He patted her shoulder and got to his feet. "I'll be back soon. Just stay here."

She climbed to her feet and followed him to the door. He opened it and turned to her. "No, you stay here. You can't come with me. It's not safe."

A worried look crossed her eyes and her hand grasped his arm. He carefully peeled it off and placed it to her chest. "Just stay here. I'll be back. Okay?"

Her frightened face stayed with him as he left her alone in that dark room.


	6. New Life

Author's Note: Another chapter rewrite

"_First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity."_

_-_Geord Bernard Shaw

The ship was worst off than Lin had thought. It seemed that the engines had been destroyed in strategic missile fire. The spare power cells were still in good condition and had been spared from the explosion, but they were useless without a ship to power up.

He spent the rest of the day checking out the rest of the ship to see if there were any survivors and once he was sure that there was only himself, the girl, and the batarian alive. Then he had the task of moving the bodies out and buried in the snow.

The girl peeked at him from the doorway as he dragged the asari down the hall from her place of death. She shyly ducked away when he turned his helmet to her, then slowly returned to watch him.

"Hey, are you feeling better?"

That blank look crossed her eyes as what he said flew over her head. Then blood rolled from her nose and over her lips.

He dropped the asari's body as the girl ducked inside, her hand over her nose and mouth. He followed her inside, "Hey, what's wrong?"

She was opening the medi-kit for an antiseptic wipe. She cleaned her face as he approached her. "Are you alright?"

"_Mon nez continue la saignée. Je ne sais pas pourquoi." _She looked up at him over the cloth.

He crouched beside her. "I guess it's useless to ask you if you feel any pain."

She stared back him with her large blue eyes.

"I guess you're alright for now."

She closed her eyes and blew her nose.

He looked at her face as if he could determine if there was something that warranted further attention from him. She looked fine. It was likely just a nosebleed, but he would make a note to check on her later. He touched her shoulder, "Keelah se'lai."

* * *

Brujah, the batarian, had lost his arm in the shutters which dropped down once the fire broke out. Lin discovered the severe arm on the floor were a shutter was tucked away. He placed the limb in a cryo-unit that came with the amputation kit in the medicine cabinet. He still had a good chance of it being reattached, but then he could have his arm replaced with a synthetic if he chose that route.

The batarian kept his gun in hand and switched it occasionally with a stim-stick. He kept his command seat on the bridge, refusing to be moved to a more comfortable bunk or to his room. "What's the word? You can fix this ship?"

Lin shook his head, studying the information rotating on his omni-tool. "No, at least not to where it can take us off planet. I may be able to get it to take us a short distance on this planet if necessary before what I could scrap into an engine blows."

"How far?"

"Two miles. Maybe three." Lin estimated, "But only if we travel when the weather is clear. A blizzard or even a harsh wind could down us."

"Fuck." Brujah smacked his fist on the arm of his chair. "The ship is that bad off?"

"Take it from a quarian." Lin offered as he turned off his omni-tool. "To get this thing in space again would take a full team, a new engine, and chop shop."

"Shit." More curses followed, and a few that Lin hadn't heard before. "Alright, we're moving this thing south."

"What?" Lin stared at him greatly surprised. "Why south?"

Brujah glared at him, all four eyes slanting as he took a long draw at the smoke between his lips. Lin remained sitting at the console, waiting for him to speak.

"There is another ship on this planet."

The visor hid Lin's surprised look. "There is?"

"Yeah, nothing special. An old Fighter, but it should be in shape enough to take us to Omega." The batarian dropped his stim-stick on the floor and grind it out under a boot. "And don't think you can get rid of my an find it for your self. You'll need access code to get inside and security clearance to disarm the turrets. But before I show you where it is. . . there's something we gotta discuss."

"Look, I'm not out to steal or rob you. I just want to get off this planet and continue my Pilgrimage." Lin muttered, getting tired of the constant suspicion from other species.

"Not that." Brujah snorted, his many nostrils flaring. "The human."

"I didn't see a human girl." Lin replied quickly. He had hoped that he had gave up on her being alive.

"She's on the ship somewhere, I know she is." Brujah stated in a firm tone. "I watched you carry the bodies out from the security vid. Not one of them was the girl."

"Then she went outside and died in the snow before I got here." Lin offered in a neutral voice. His visor could hide his facial expressions, but the fear in his voice must be kept level.

"Possible, but I want this ship searched. Everyone room, every duct, everything." Brujah pulled a fresh stim-stick from his pocket. "I'll do it myself if I have to."

"Don't we have better things to worry about than a missing slave?" Lin thought about the girl hidden away in a storage room at the rear of the ship.

"You don't understand, so let me make it simple! I lost my ship and my crew. I am going to need the profit I get from selling her ass to cut my losses."

Lin's hands wobbled a bit at the console. "I. . . I'll look again. If I find her. . . .I'll just put her in the holding cell."

"You do that."

Lin was quiet for a moment and then asked, "I didn't think that human slaves go for that much."

"They don't." The batarian muttered taking another draw on his stim-stick. "But occasionally you find one that the Elite might like as a concubine."

Lin was stopped fiddling with the consoles, his hands frozen over the keys. "As sex slaves you mean."

"Depends on the buyer. Usually its sex, sometimes just to have something pretty to look at. . . or hurt." The batarian smirked flicking the ashes from his narcotic.

"W. . . .why would anyone want to spend so much money to torture an innocent?" Lin's throat felt dry and he dreaded the answer.

"A turian kingpin of a smuggling ring is her buyer. Veteran of the human/turian war and he suffered a lot of scars." The batarian's lips spread and revealed a row of very sharp teeth. "I think he wants to pass along some scars of his own."

* * *

He looped the security vid so if the batarian was to check them, he would see a contstant feedback of an empty hallway. He wasn't sure why he was going to far to help the girl. He was not a supporter of slavery, but he had been around slaves before and had never gone so far to help them. But then, he was never in the position to do so.

When he checked on the girl, he was welcomed with a hug. She been sitting against the far wall and when he entered, she crossed the room with her arms outstretched which she wrapped around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

He held her back, feeling bad about not checking on her before. The girl must be terrified and didn't understand what the situation is. She looked up at him, "_Que se produit ? Est-ce que je peux sortir maintenant ?"_

He wished he could talk to her; tell her that everything was alright. He stroked her head, his fingers rifling through her long hair. "I know you can't understand me, but it's alright. I'm looking out for you. So you'll have to stay here for now."

He let her go and guided her to the far wall with a hand on her shoulder. He didn't want to stand in the doorway in case Brujah made good on his promise to search the ship himself. "I going to have to get you out of here."

Her face was void of understanding.

"So what I think is going to be best is tomorrow, I'm going to take you to my skiff. It's a long walk, but we'll go when it stops snowing. You'll be safe there and once I get Brujah to Omega, I'll come back for you. I'll get you home, but you'll have to wait there for a few days by yourself, but I'll make sure you have what you need."

He spoke slowly to her, hoping that some of what he said will get through to her, but her eyes were tearing up as understanding of his speech didn't reach her. He squeezed her shoulder and wondered why his translator wasn't working for her and why she didn't have one of her own.

He gave her the blanket he had taken from a bunk room and more rations. As she was poring over the rations, he noticed a small pile of bloody clothes in the far corner. He picked one up carefully with a thumb and first finger and stared. It was a series of red blood splotches that nearly covered the cloth.

The girl noticed what had caught his attention. _"Mon saigne beaucoup et c'est pourquoi ceux sont là." _

"Are you alright? Are you wounded?" He asked dropping the cloth. The last thing he needed was for her to be hurt or sick.

As if by answering his question, a trickle of blood appeared from her nose. She touched her nose, while her free hand reached for the medi-kit.

"Keelah." He got to his feet and hurried to her side. "What's wrong? Your nose was bleeding earlier? Were you hit?"

He cupped both sides of her face and sought to see the source of her injury. He even tilted her head back as if seeing up her nose could help discern the problem. She reached up and touched his helmet. "_Pourquoi portez-vous un casque toute l'heure ?" _

"You're curious about my helmet?" He let her touch the small light that flickered as he spoke. "I wear it to protect myself from bacteria. I have little to no immune system and I can sicken very easily."

She brought her face closer, trying to see his face through his visor. Her breath gently left a small spot of fog on it and he slid his palms over her ears and to cup her cheeks. In doing do, the heels of his hand pressed the sides of her lips making them purse.

He felt a heaviness in his stomach and a rising heat on his skin. Was his suit environmental control in his suit malfunctioning? Then he noticed the girl's face was becoming more colorful, a rising blush on her cheeks. Realization dawned on him and he released her face. The girl sat back on her heels, her eyes cast to the side.

"You. . . you'll be alright. I'll make sure you see a doctor soon."

With that, he left her alone embarrassed and worried.

* * *

The early morning brought the end of the snow and surprisingly clear skies. The ship was nearing repair to the point for that short journey and Lin knew that if he was to move the girl to the skiff, he had to do it now.

The excuse that he fed Brujah was that he needed some parts from his downed skiff and that he would need to make a trip back to it. Brujah muttered his consent, all four eyes studying him as if seeking any sort of ploy or untruth.

Lin made his plans carefully. He would take two packs, one for him and the second for the girl. They contained rations and supplies that he knew Brujah wouldn't miss. They should last the girl a few days before he returned for her.

There was a hole in the bow of the ship, likely created from the attack. He could take the girl to this point and have her exit outside by calling to her or motioning to her. He made sure that there were no surveillance monitors that could see her with his omni-tool. When he felt that his plan was foolproof, he went to fetch her.

When he neared her storage room, his froze when Brujah exited out of it.

The batarian noticed him, "You never came across her body?"

"No, I told you that." Lin stammered. Did he find her!? Where was she?"

"Fuck." Brujah cursed low under his breath. "That little bitch."

He slammed his fist against the wall, and timed, as if by Keelah itself, the door further down the wall opened, the hiss of it opening masked by the echo of the wall being impacted by angry batarian. It was the washroom door and the girl stepped out, then froze seeing the batarian's back. She stepped back inside, but left the door open.

If he heard the door close. . . . .

"Look, you need to go lie down. . . ." Lin encouraged, his heart racing. " . . . you don't want to strain yourself. . . you did loose a lot of blood."

"I got bio-amps that help." Brujah snorted, all of his nostrils flaring. "When you are going to be back?"

"Three hours, maybe more or less." Lin was grateful the visor hid his anxiety, it was an advantage of being a quarian he had now discovered. When she peeked out again, it was all he could do to keep from waving her back inside. "Look, I need to use the facilities, so if you'll excuse me."

Lin ducked around the larger alien and sped to the washroom, ducking inside and shutting the door by slapping the seal. He hoped the batarian didn't notice the door was open when he went inside. The girl had backed up, holding her clothes tightly to her chest.

Lin listened at the door, holding his breath. He didn't hear any heavy footsteps coming to the door and he sealed the door, locking it in place. He relaxed and then turned to the girl, "Keelah, you chose a fine time to take. . . a shower."

The girl was wearing what he could only assume was her underwear. Her chemise was snowy white that hung midway down her hips, leaving her matching panties revealed beneath. There was a little pink boy at the center neckline that stood out in complete contrast from the whiteness. It was sewn center, right there at the cleavage of her small breasts.

She didn't have the hourglass shape of quarian women and the chemise hung loosely from her shoulders and didn't fit her body as snug as a bio-suit. However, she was no less feminine than them. There was a softness about her with her large eyes and her hair no longer just hung there like a wet rag. She had washed it and even dried. It cascaded down her shoulders and back like a stream and reflected the light like yellow metal.

She spoke to him, her language chirruping at him in a soft scared tone. It snatched him to attention. "It's alright. . .but just stay here. . . .I'll wait in here with you and make sure he's gone. . . I wish we could just communicate so that you knew not to be gone from that room. . . but then. . . good thing you were. . .or he would have found you and gotten us both into a lot of trouble. . . .have a good shower. . . .ha ha ha. . . ."

He was babbling. Trying to take his mind off. . . . .the heat he was feeling and not look at her. But dammit, an image like that was just meant to be looked at. . . . why the hell is she not putting on her clothes. . . .?

She was scared and confused. She had reached up to rub her face, to sooth and comfort herself. In doing so, she lifted the edge of the chemise revealing that their was a second little pink bow on the front and top of her panties, right below her navel.

He adjusted the temperature of his suit to a nice chill and remembered to a conversation he had with an uncle a few days before his Pilgrimage.

* * *

_It was customary for young quarians to spend a few days with their family before leaving on their Pilgrimage. It was a chance to say goodbye before a separation of months to years away from the Flotilla. _

_It was during this time that the young quarian would receive advice from his peers and gifts to aid him on his journey. His father gave him his old rifle of asari style, it wasn't powerful as a turian model, but it had great accuracy that allowed him to hit a target at a great distance. His mother provided him a good supply of medi-gel and herbs that would help boost his immune system if his suit had a tear or puncture. _

_Then two days before he would leave for his journey, he received a 'special' gift.. It came from his Uncle Tobi'Noa vas Setos. He had been on his Pilgrimage for 2 years before returning to the Flotilla with a large sum of money as his gift and rambunctious stories of his time away. _

_When Lin returned to the Setos for time with his family, Tobi invited him down to the ventilation to help with the purifying filters. Lin knew it wasn't just that, by the lilt in Tobi's voice and also, Yorgo'Vara vas Setos, who had just returned from his Pilgrimage weeks before. _

_When the three of them arrived in the ventilation shaft, Tobi leaned against the wall and held out a credit chit. "Here, this is for you."_

"_Thanks, Uncle Tobi." Lin gratefully accepted it. Any amount of money would help him on his journey. _

"_Oh, that money isn't for you to spend anywhere." Tobi said with humor in his voice. "Its for a certain special place in Omega, called the Pulse."_

"_The Pulse?" Lin asked, suddenly feeling a sense of dread._

_Yorgo snickered behind his visor. "Oh, trust us, you'll like it. They have _something_ for everybody."_

_It clicked together and Lin held the chit away from him in dawning horror. "Is that a whorehouse!?"_

"_Brothel, son, brothel." Tobi corrected. "Calling it a whorehouse is going to piss off the owner and her ladies when you go."_

"_I'm not going." Lin muttered with a shake of his head._

"_Son, when the hell are you going to have sex?"_

"_When I get married." _

_Quarians did have Clean Rooms for intimacy, but that was restricted to married couples who have to schedule ahead of time due to all the couples who wanted to consummate their marriages. There were some ships who have no Clean Rooms and have to go to other ships for intimacy. Quarians' immune systems were too weak to risk sex outside of a purified room and there were no privacy anywhere. _

_Often, quarians who wish for intimacy before marriage or exiled quarians have it while on Pilgrimage within brothels that have purified rooms for quarians But often those brothels charged high prices to use a purified room and for the escort to sterilize her body for skin to skin contact._

"_You're talking like your mother." Tobi snorted._

"_If mother knew you were talking to me about this she'd put you both through the airlock." Lin replied._

"_You saw Asari on the extranet? You seen them dance and act. . . you never wanted to. . . . you know. . . ." Tobi made a very rude hand sign._

"_No. . . ." Lin muttered feeling his face flushing._

"_Not just Asari. . . humans are okay too." Yorgo put in. "I've seen some cute ones."_

"_They're not as. . . .flexible as asari." Tobi leaned forward to look at the younger quarian. There was a husky overtone to his voice that his helmet's speaker couldn't detain._

"_They can be. Not all of them, but some of their females can be. . ." _

"_No way, I don't believe that. Besides, you can't beat that lovely blue skin . . ."_

"_Humans can change their skin pigments and blue isn't everything. I once saw a human with white skin. Beautiful white skin. . . .and she had the figure of a fine quarian woman. . . ."_

"_Asari have better figures. . . ." _

_And then the conversation between them became more and more raunchy and risque. Lin learned things about humans and asari that his lessons preparing him for his Pilgrimage didn't teach him._

_How this was going to aid him, he had no idea._

_* * * _

Now, Lin was helping her dress into an enviro-suit for the snow outside, trying to concentrate on the task and not sneak another glance at the pink bows at certain spots on her body. The enviro-suit had likely belonged to the asari before her demise as it was the smallest that he could find. However, it was almost too baggy for her.

He studied her frame and thought that she could easily fit into a quarian bio-suit, but with one glance at her chest, he admitted that she would need some padding. She spread her fingers wide in the fitting gloves and flexed her ankles, tapping the toe of the boots on the floor.

Lin motioned for her to wait to in the bathroom while he scouted to see what Brujah was up to. It seemed that the search had tired the injured batarian and he was sleeping in his command chair. Still, Lin wasn't going to risk the girl being seen if the batarian happened to wake and look out the window.

He guided her by hand to the tear in the hull, which was on the opposite of the flight deck. Snow had been blowing in covering the ground in powdery snow and ice. He tread carefully and turned to the girl. "Wait here."

"_Où allons-nous ?" _The girl inquired leaning forward to look out the torn hull.

"Wait, wait, don't go out yet." Lin muttered as he cheeked his omni-tool to get his bearings of which way they should go. He noticed that she was gripping his hand tightly when he released her hand and tapped away at the omni tool. "Come this way."

He slipped his hand back into hers and they left the ship. They walked together, cutting through the snow with their boots and breathing hard from the effort. The girl's hair bobbed on her shoulders from the touch climbs uphill and she gripped him hard on steep slopes to keep from slipping.

But one time, she did slip, nearly taking him with her. Her boot slipped on snow covered ice and with a squeal, she landed on her rear and gravity and ice carried her down the slope. He rushed after, his legs bent at awkwardly to keep himself from slipping also.

She stopped at the bottom covered in snow, but giggling. He slide down beside her and she looked up at him with a bright grin on her face and her blue eyes shining with bits of stuck clinging to her tresses of hair. Her eyelashes glistened from the tiny ice crystals clung to them.

"_Breath through the mouth and out through the nose." _Lin told himself as he helped her up. _"Don't think about the pink bows. Don't think about them at all." _

* * *

She was happy to be outside in the snow. She liked snow; it was so white and beautiful, especially when it fell from the sky in small clumps. And there was a lot of it here on the ground. It was well packed and deep as she was not able to see the dead earth beneath it as she treaded through it.

Her guide didn't seem as enthuse about the snow as her. He grumbled whenever he nearly tripped or slip in his alien language. She followed close to him, feeling happier than she had been since her awakening. She felt safe with him, she was free, and there was snow.

She studied her new friend and wondered why he never took the helmet off. Was he unable to breath the air? What happens if his air runs out? What did he look like under the helmet?

She assumed he was young because he was shorter than an adult, but then adults could be short too. But his voice sounded smooth and young, but then adults of his species could have young sounding voices.

Then she remembered where she had seen his suit. . . . he was a Quarian.

"Quarian! You are a quarian!" She said loping up beside him.

He looked at her suddenly, giving her his full attention and stopping. He spoke to her, touching her shoulder. Though she couldn't see his face, she could feel him staring at her, studying her face intently.

Under that gaze, she felt shy and glanced away from his helmet, her gaze going out to the snow banks. "I just remembered from what I read in the info-pad. You're a quarian. . . .you live in space ships and. . . and that's all I remember. . . .sorry."

Nothing was said for a moment, then he put a hand on her back and urged her to continue. It seemed that he was in a hurry to take her somewhere. She wondered where they were going, was he taking her somewhere safe or to some aid.

He wouldn't be taking her anywhere dangerous, if he wanted to hurt her, then he could have done so back on the wrecked ship. And he was so nice to her. He was what Sister Ruth would call a Godsend.

* * *

It took them longer than he anticipated. There was no way the girl could have scaled the escarpment on her own nor could he climb it with her clinging to his back. They took the long way; travel east along the escarpment till they discovered a trail that allowed them to climb up it at a gentle slope.

By the time they neared the skiff, Lin was out of breath and the girl was panting heavily near him. It was a relief to see it now, even though it was no longer functioning. But it should have enough power for a few more days. Now came the hard part, making her understand that she was to stay here and not follow him.

The girl stared at the ship curiously as they neared it. He knocked the snow off the hatch and then unlocked it with his omni-tool. The hatch heaved open on its own and he coaxed her inside. "See, let me turn the power on and it should be warm in here soon."

The girl climbed inside after him. She glanced at the cramped quarters. His bedding was a pile of blankets and a pillow on the floor and a tangle of wires on the floor at their feet. She moved to the flight chair and stood beside it, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, Keelah, you think I'm going to fly you out of here, don't you?" Lin bemoaned as he lowered the pack of rations onto the floor. "I'm sorry, jui'sa. I wish I was taking you off this planet now, but I can't."

Jui'sa. He wasn't sure if he was old enough to call her that. It meant 'little one' or 'young one'. He was just a few years older and. . . .from her figure, she was no young child. But there was something childlike about her. The way she looked at him, waiting for him to fly her away and the way she loped through the snow around him.

It was going to be hard to explain to her that she had to remain here. And he hated that she would wait here and alone and possibly believe that he had abandoned her here. He would stay with her a while, make sure she was comfortable before he left her.

The girl looked out the front of the skiff and pointed. A spurt of her language burst from her lips and she looked at him frantic. He stepped forward and looked out too.

His blood turned colder than the snow outside when he saw blue figures riding land cruisers appear over the distant hill. "Keelah!"

The girl heard the fear in his voice and grasped in his arm in a tight grip that hurt him. He grabbed her arms and firmly urged her to sit on the bedding. She sat heavily down on the blankets and stared up at him, terror pooling in her eyes.

"It'll be alright." He lied to her. "I promise. . . .it'll be alright."

He turned to the window, unclipping the rifle from his back. He counted five heads. Two humans, a turian, a salarian, and. . . .horror of horrors, a Krogan. Panic rose like a red wave as they drew nearer. How did they find him. . . .?

His eyes landed on the SOS beacon that he had set up after he crash landed. Of course, that was how they found him. . . .dammit. . . . why had he forgotten!? No, he didn't forget. He had intentionally left it signaling in case the crashing ship proved not to offer much help. But. . . he had no idea of the trouble it had caused now.

They were going to kill him. They were going to kill the girl or just take her. Hell, they might take him too. He was out numbered. He was trained, but he lacked confidence to be able to hold his own. He wasn't ready for this. He wanted to be back on the Flotilla. Not here, not here around dangerous aliens.

He was trembling with the rifle rattling in his hands. He felt a thin arm slide around his waist and the girl was standing close to his side. Her arm tightened around his waist in a sideway hug and she was whispering, _"Dieu d'O, qui nous connaît à placer au milieu de tels grands périls, qui, en raison de la faiblesse de notre nature, nous ne pouvons pas nous tenir droits, ne nous accordons pas une telle santé d'esprit et de corps, que ces maux que nous souffrons pour nos péchés nous peuvent surmonter par l'aide de Thine. Par le Christ notre seigneur. Amen."_

She spoke in a soft serious tone, her fear belaying her voice. It held a rhythm that told him that they foreign words she spoke were spiritual. "Did you just say a prayer?"

Her eyes were on the approaching figures and he notice that her hand was steady on his side. He placed arm around her shoulders, grasping his rifle with one hand that no longer shook. He hugged her close and felt a sense of peace as the fear thawed. "We're going to be alright."

This time, when he said those words, he believed them.

* * *

The mercs had been sent out by their leader to locate the source of a SOS beacon scanners detected as they scoured for the pirate ship. The captain said that it could be something useful there and whatever or whoever they found was to be brought back.

The source of the beacon was a small second hand skiff that was half buried in the snow. But readings from the salarian's omni-tool informed them that it still had a power signature. They dismounted their land cruisers and pulled their guns.

"Hey, whoever is there, come out here quietly. Hands up." One of the humans, a tall dark haired man with a jagged scar down his cheek and across his chin, stepped forward issuing the order.

There was a silent moment, then the hatched open. Guns were raised as the open hatched was targeted. A small figure climbed out of the skiff and landed heavily on her feet in the deep snow.

The second human, a younger man with a blond crew cut whistled, "What do we have here?"

It was a young human girl wearing an enviro-suit that was a few sizes too big for her. She stared at them with large blue eyes and her hands were placed on her head. She took several steps from the opening toward them.

"Stop right there." The turian jerked his gun at her in a rough motion to stop.

"Cute, but I don't think she got here alone." The scarred human muttered. "There's someone else. Boris, cuff her. Yarish, go investigate the skiff."

"Hey, girlie, you gonna tell us where your friend is?" Boris crossed the short distance between himself and the girl. He towered over her petite frame, making her all the more smaller due to his wide armor and tall stature. The girl didn't resist him when he cuffed her wrists behind her back. She didn't say a word, her lips held tightly together in a firm calm. Boris nudged her with a gloved finger, "You better talk to me, girl. I'm asking nicely. You don't want Shack over there to ask you. He doesn't ask very nicely."

The Krogan glanced at them and snorted, shooting jets of airy fog from his nostrils. Yarish, the salarian had entered the skiff and ever searching it, he called, "No one here, but unless she has a taste for purified feeding paste, then we have a quarian somewhere."

"Okay, honey, you better tell where your friend is." Boris grabbed her arm hard enough to make her wince. "Don't make me break your arm. . . ."

There was a short soft burst and he stopped talking. Boris blinked his eyes once, twice, and on the third time as blood streamed down his cheek from the bullet holes in his skull. He fell face first into the snow at the girl's feet.

"Shooter!" The turian yelled swinging his gun around seeking the shooter.

The hatch slammed shut, knocking Yarish back into the skiff. A figure that had been been hidden beneath a snow covered blanket atop of the skiff threw a grenade. It spun in a straight shot toward the krogan and before the behemoth could react, it landed at his feet and exploded, melting snow and burning krogan flesh.

The krogan howled, nearly masking the brief exchange of gunfire. Lin threw the blanket, momentarily giving him some camouflage as he threw himself in the piled snow near the skiff's front. The scarred human fired the bullets ripping through the blanket and not finding a quarian behind them.

Lin fired catching the human's shields. The skiff offered enough cover to keep him safe, but it was two against one and his armor didn't offer him the protection that the other two shields did. He was going to loose. . . .

The girl charged. She threw herself against the turian's back with enough velocity to send them both falling into the snow. The turian cursed and twisted around to shove her off. He was trying to get his gun up. The girl yelled and propelled herself forward onto his gun arm, trying to keep it down.

"You little human bitch!" He snarled as he easily grabbed her by the scruff of her suit and threw her off. He rolled to his feet to resume the battle, but it was too late. During the short time that he wrestled with the girl his comrade had been shot down.

Lin had taken the time given to him to chip away at the human's armor and then deposit a pulse of ammo into his chest. One advantage the quarian did have over the mercs that there was no cover for them to utilize and it was a too far a stretch to turn and run for the cruisers with bullets hailing on them.

Lin slide from the front of the skiff, staying with cover. The turian tucked himself against the hull for some cover. It wouldn't be too much longer before the salarian managed to hacked the door open. Lin landed on his feet and charged forward, kicking through the snow to get distance. He could only hope that the girl would be safe as he summoned his omni-tool and gave the order.

The skiff hummed to life as it gunned the engines which Lin had earlier set to explode. The explosion threw heat onto Lin's back as he threw himself forward, covering his head with both arms and the omni-tool still lit on his right arm. There was a hum in his ears for several heart beats and then he lifted his head and looked at the remains.

The ship was a burning mass of metal and plastic. The salarian inside had surely been vaporized by the explosion and maybe the turian also. The girl was safe, but stunned. He shoved himself to his feet and clipped the gun to his back. The krogan was charred, but was alive and groaning. Lin paid him no further attention as he pulled the girl to her feet and uncuffed her.

She turned around with teary eyes and a bruised. They hugged each other tightly, her face against his shoulder and his helmet against her hair. They survived and they were alive together. Lin felt closer to her for it and he knew that she felt the same.

He released her, taking her hand in his and they both ran toward the cruisers.

* * *

Where it had taken them several hours on foot to get to the skiff, it took less than an hour on the cruiser to return to the ship. The girl squealed with fright as they leaped the snow banks, but then shrieked with delight each time they did so afterward. And each time, she hugged his waist a little tighter. He wished he could share in her fun, but he knew and understood that they were far from being out of danger.

Likely, that group had been scouts and when they don't report back. . . . the thought of it made him drive the cruiser faster. The girl became silent when they came in view of the downed pirate ship and he knew that she wasn't happy about being back here. For the thousandth time, he wished that he could talk to her. Explain to her the danger and why they had better chances here.

He looked for any blue figures moving around and guessed that they haven't found the ship yet. They had to go now.

He pulled up behind the downed ship and parked it. He and the girl pushed it inside through the tear of the hull. His plan was to take the girl back to the storage room and have her hide there while he and Brujah moved the ship to the hidden bunker. He'll keep Brujah distracted for him to sneak the girl on board the second ship and keep her hidden. Then when they get to Omega, he could get her off the ship and hide in the slums.

All those plans went to hell when Brujah appeared at the entrance way with a pistol in hand and the girl in plain view. Lin froze and the girl gasped backing away, looking as if she would bolt through the tear. The batarian aimed the gun directly at her, "Don't you fucking move, little girl. Don't you dare move."

"Brujah. . . this. . . .the Blue Suns are coming." Lin muttered, hoping to direct the pirate's mind away from the girl. "We need to get out of here. . . ."

"Either you've been hiding her. . . or you went out and found her and brought her back." The batarian directed all four eyes toward Lin. "Which is it?"

"That's not important." Lin stated and flung an arm toward the opening. "Listen, there were Blue Suns mercs out there. We have to get to the bunker before they find your ship. So please, just. . . .let it go."

"I was planning on selling your quarian ass." Brujah's voice was low cool tone. Lin had expected him to shout, curse, or even just outright shoot him if he discovered that he was hiding the girl. No, instead there was a deadly calm that was very focused on them. "I wouldn't have gotten as much, but quarians do sell well to Tuchanka. The krogans are too stupid to handle engineering so they have quarian slaves that do it for them."

"This is not the time." Lin explained feeling his heart pulse in his chest. "You're not going to get any money if the Blue Suns gets us. We're on the same side right now. You can't spend money dead or in prison." Brujah's gun hand didn't waver nor did it move away from them. Lin lost his patience, "If you think you can pilot this ship with one hand, then fine. Shoot me!"

Brujah's eyes flashed at him, but anger could not deny Lin's logical argument. "Fine. Get us the fuck out of here, but she's going into the holding cell."

Lin slowly nodded. "Alright. Just don't hurt her."

Brujah holstered his gun and motioned to her. She remained where she was and shook her head. Brujah cursed and surged forward grabbing her hair in a tight fisted grip and yanked her along. She shrieked, clawing at his hand and her feet grappling on the ice. Lin hollered at Brujah to be gentle; not to hurt her.

"Shut up and go to the flight deck. I'll be there once I finish with her."

"Just don't hurt her." Lin warned him, tempted to pull his rifle on the one armed man. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the codes needed from him to access the bunker. After that. . . . they would see. . . .

* * *

The bunker was hidden in the side of a mountain which was viewable to the east from the downed ship's location. Brujah provided the codes through the consoler's interface and any turrets that would have fired on them didn't. The snow heaved aside as large wide doors spread apart, granting them entrance. The bunker was the inside of a hollowed out cave within the mountain itself. It was likely built centuries ago by syndicate or mercenary band for supplies. The bunker was derelict, but full of supplies and salvaged parts from various other ships. Lin studied the video feed from the ship's monitors and could see a stockpiles of weaponry. This could have been a bunker owned by the military party or even militants

The second ship was smaller than the pirate ship and looked to be of turian style from several centuries back. Though it was old, it looked sturdy. It was more then enough to get them off the snow planet and to Omega.

Lin kept his eye on Brujah and a hand near his rifle. He had ordered the ship to land and it was slowly docking. "You realize that I'm not going to let you sell her."

He turned to face the captain with a taut body. The batarian had the pistol in hand, but it wasn't aimed at Lin. It was held loosely against his knee as he leaned forward. The batarian looked tired and drained of energy. "And you know that I can't pilot that ship with one arm either."

"Here's the deal. I'll get you to Omega, but once we get there, she comes with me. You will not be selling her." Lin stated in a firm tone.

"You don't know the right sellers that I do. You try to sell her to some batarian farmer as a farm hand you're looking at maybe 150 credits and that's being generous. I already set up a buyer for her from an elite arms smuggler in Omega which is willing to pay far more than any farmer. Here's my deal. You'll get forty percent of the profit I get from her." Brujah leaned forward toward him baring his sharp teeth. "And trust me, that' a lot of money that could be coming your way."

Lin shook his head. "No, this isn't about money."

"Then what is it about? You want her? You can't fuck her without catching the plague." Bruha jeered.

"It's not about sex either." Lin slapped a hand on the arm of the flight chair. "Why is everything about sex or money!?"

"You little shit." Brujah snarled, spittle flicking from his lips. "Little fucking quarian trying to rob me! Rob me while I'm crippled and my whole crew is gone. That little bitch is cxmy property until she passes hands to another owner and she's their property."

"You talk about her as if she's an object!" Lin was outraged. "She's a person! You'd sell her to someone you know will harm her!"

"That turian is the one willing to pay the most for her. Top buyers get the merchandise. I don't care what's done to them as long as I get my money."

"That's sick." Lin shook his head, his hand easing down to his hip where he could grasp the rifle. "Fact of the matter is you need me. We don't need you."

"We!? You can't even understand her!"

"_We _don't need you to help us pilot." Lin barely kept himself from shouting. "Now what are you willing to sacrifice to allow us to take you along."

"What makes you fucking think that I'm going to allow you to walk out of here." The pistol raised.

Less than a blink, Lin had his rifle up. "Brujah, this makes no sense. I'll take you to Omega and the girl and I will leave you and the ship. We'll take nothing else with us. You'll still have your ship and you can easily get a new crew together once you recover. But if you force me. . .I will kill you and take everything for us."

"Do you have any idea how asinine that sounds?" Brujah spatted onto the ground.

"I feel the same way about your plans." Lin raised his rifle.

A trigger was pulled.

* * *

Collette huddled in the corner of the holding cell. It was deja vu of her being alone and frightened in this cold cell. If it wasn't for the warm clothes, she would have believed that she dreamed the whole thing of her attempted rape, the ship crashing, meeting the king quarian and the things in the blue armor.

She wished that the quarian hadn't brought her back here, but it could be that they had no where else to go. She had thought that the batarian had been killed in the crash, but seeing him with a pistol aimed at them made her blood chill in her veins. He had grabbed her by the hair and had literally dragged her down the halls to the cell.

Even when she tripped and couldn't get to her feet, he still dragged her. Her scalp was still sore from the mistreatment. She was more scared than hurt now. What happened to the quarian? She prayed that he was alright and would come for her soon.

Her heart seized when the door opened and to her joy her quarian stepped inside. She surged to her feet. "You're back!"

He looked tired and his shoulders sagged. He looked as if he was carrying a heavy burden on them now. She touched his hand, curling her fingers around his. She looked at him expectantly, wishing he would talk to her. Even though she couldn't understand him, it would make her feel better to hear his voice.

He tightened his grip on her hand and motioned for her to go with him. She went with him, holding his hand tightly and very pleased to be with him.

* * *

The second ship was meant for a three or four man crew. But it could easily be manned alone. It didn't have any supplies stocked, but that didn't mean they could stock it themselves with the supplies available in the bunker and on the other ship. He had commanded the bunker itself after they gained entry. He could only hope that it would snow again to hide the bunker again.

Being a quarian, he had been taught all his life to be resourceful and not waste anything that could be of use. He would search the ship for anything of use. It would be quicker to have someone help him and he was sure the girl would help him once she understood what they were doing. But, for right now, he wanted to be alone.

He knew she would follow him, not understanding that he wanted to be alone right now. Its been a while since she slept, she might go to sleep if he took her to the crew quarters. It has to be more comfortable than the cold floor of the ship.

There were four bunks in the narrow quarters. Two mounted on the other two. "Here, I think you should be able to sleep here."

He was relieved to see her go willingly into the bunk room and claim the right bunk. She sat down upon it and began taking her boots off. He leaned against the door way, thinking about what had occurred earlier. Then he watched her began shucking her pants and and wiggling out of the enviro-suit.

He watched her reveal her white underwear again. The white chemise with the bow at her cleavage and the matching bow on her panties was revealed to him again. He looked away. He didn't want to feel anything else than what he is feeling now. She called him, but he shook his head and motioned for her to remain.

Fortunately, she was too tired to follow him out. She rolled onto the bunk and curled up to sleep in the blanket. He stood at the doorway and watched her for a bit before leaving.

He went through the pirate ship and collected what would be of use. Weapons, tools, food, and even drugs. He found some Hallex and Red Sand in the hidden caches in the crew's quarters. He carried what he could in the various pockets of his bio-suit. However, he did have to make several trips back and forth.

There was one weapon. . . .he couldn't bring himself to take with them.

Brujah's pistol.

He shot the batarian. The pirate captain caught the bullets in the chest and the neck with a grunt. He choked on his own blood and then died. Lin approached the body and pulled the pistol from his hand. That was when he noticed that the pistol was damaged. It couldn't shoot. Brujah was threatening him with a harmless pistol.

He had shot and killed an unarmed man. Brujah had to have known that the pistol he carried was useless. It didn't make any sense. . . .why didn't he just get another weapon. . . because he knew that he couldn't pilot the hip with one arm. . . .

He rather died giving some semblance of a fight than allow a quarian to just. . . rip him off.

Dragged the batarian out of the ship and wrapped him up in blankets. He wished he could take him out to bury him in the snow, but he couldn't risk being seen or caught by the Blue Suns. He left the body in side a storage room.

When he finished his work, placing the supplies in a safe storage room, he returned to the quarters bedroom. He returned to the crew quarters when he was finished.

The girl was still asleep. He found himself sitting at the edge of her bunk, watching her. She was curled on her side with the blanket tucked tight around her. Her face was relaxed in a sleeping pose with a hand curled beneath her chin.

She was so brave when she went out to face the Blue Suns alone. He had motioned to her the plan. He pointed out the hatch and to himself. He them mimed himself climbing to the top of the skiff and shooting the Blue Suns. He feared that she wouldn't understand, but she did. . . .or maybe she trusted him that much.

He touched her shoulder, giving it a caress. He just killed for her. He wasn't thinking about the Blue Suns. He was fighting to protect the both of them. Those Blue Suns would have just as easily killed him as her. Or taken them both captive. No, what happened earlier was different. He protected her from Brujah and had killed an unarmed man to keep her safe.

When he left for his Pilgrimage, he only had thoughts of protecting himself. That was what his whole training was about. . .ensuring his survival so he could return to the Fleet with his gift. What would his trainers think about his situation? He should be worrying more about what his gift should be. . . .now that he had chance to leave this ice planet and continue his Pilgrimage, he should . . .

She opened her eyes. She turned her head up to look at him. Her blue eyes blinked several times and when she focused on him, she smiled. His anxiety melted. She spoke to him, her soft voice croon in a language his translator wouldn't reveal to him. She reached out to him, tugging on his arm.

It was too easy. . . just too damn easy to allow himself to sink down beside her. She moved over making room for him on the bunk. He laid on his side next to her, facing her. She smiled at him laying her head down on the pillow and throwing the blanket across him too. It wasn't something that he needed, his enviro-suit kept him at room temperature despite the heat or cold of his surroundings.

She slid her arm across his waist and her cheek at his shoulder. He touched her arm, cupping her elbow. She spoke to him again and attempted to touch his visor. He moved his head away from her hand, "No, it can't come off. Just. . . leave it, please. . ."

Then he realized something. He didn't know her name. She had always been the girl or the human. He touched touched her shoulder. "What's your name?"

She looked at him, not comprehending at all.

He touched his chest. "Lin."

She smiled, _"Lin ? Je connais une femme aimable avec ce nom ! Lynn Sheridan était son name." _

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You?"

"Colette." She replied.

The girl was now Colette. He brushed his fingers across her cheek bringing a pink flush to her cheeks. She allowed him to slide an arm around her and tuck her against his side.

Then it hit him. He realized that he was inside his gift. This ship and the bunker! Not the bunker itself of course, but the salvage and the supplies! A ship loaded with supplies would be a good gift to provide. But he couldn't go back home with Colette.

* * *

Colette watched Lin, that was his name. His silver eyes were staring up at the ceiling. She could tell that he was thinking heavily about something. That was the look her father had whenever she saw him. Either at her schools recital or holidays. He was always thinking about business. Never about her.

"You have pretty eyes. . . ." She spoke to him, hoping to take his attention toward her.

The hand at her back patted her and then he didn't look at her. She sighed, trying to not let it bother her. It felt weird to be laying in bed with a stranger in her underwear. But she simply didn't mind. He was fully clothed, in fact he was wear a full body suit. And with a helmet on no doubt. What was sexual about that?

However, she knew the Sisters at school would have been mortified. Colette furrowed her brow at the memory of them and she felt guilty. God surely didn't want her to be curled up in bed with a strange man. . . .

But this couldn't be so bad. . . .he was covered in a full body suit with a helmet on. He had saved her life and helped her so much. He deserves a little cuddle. . . .and he's an alien. Nothing can happen when an alien. And it was cold. . . they were in a snowy climate, they need each other for warmth.

Now that she had made her actions seem right, she settled against him for comfort and that sense of security that he was going to take care of her. That she can trust him completely and he was close beside her.


	7. Citadel 1

_"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending"_

_- _Maria Robinson_  
_

To say the Citadel was huge was an understatement. Even saying that it was massive still didn't do the Citadel justice. When they told her that the Citadel was a station, she had imagined a large station, about the size of the moon as she had seen in science fiction shows. . . . .

She stood at the window of the Waver in awe at the star shaped station that could blot out the sun. Mitaka stood with her at the observation window and explained to her this was the center of Council Space. It functioned like its own planet, with a government, laws, and residential districts. He also explained that she would find thousands of species living together with humans being the newcomers.

"So I take it that not many humans live there." She placed her hands on the glass. The bend of her elbow still had a bandage around it.

Mitaka chuckled with a shake of his head, "I wouldn't say that. . . . there are over a three million humans living and working on the Citadel."

"Really? In just 25 years?" Lynn stared amazed at the coming and going ships that surrounded the station.

"Humanity moves fast." Mitaka commented crossing his arms and cocking his head at he image. "A lot of species say that we move too fast."

"Why would they say that? Why would they begrudge us for wanting to advance?"

"It's not that they don't want us to advance. They think we're moving too fast. We've accomplished in decades what had taken centuries for other species to gain. Such as getting an embassy on the Citadel, treaties, trade, and corporations. You name it and humanity has a hand in it. There are a lot of species who have been trying for centuries to get an embassy. A lot of people think we'll become Council Members pretty soon."

"But. . . how do you advance if it is so difficult?" Lynn turned to the commander curiously.

"You have to show how useful we is. And having a strong military helps. Though the turian military is the most powerful in the galaxy, but in the First Contact War we sorta proved that we were strong enough to stand against them. I believe that is what gave us a leg up." Mitaka gave her a reassuring smile, "It's not just military, but business, politics and. . .well, a lot of it goes over my head, but whatever it is that's needed, we appear to have a lot of it." Mitaka stepped back, dropping his arms to his side. "But I think above of, it takes a willingness to work with others and initiation."

Lynn was quiet for a short moment. "I feel. . .a little vulnerable. . .what is going to happen to me. . . .and to. . . Winter?"

"Don't worry. There's an apartment waiting for you in the residential wards and the Alliance has already paid a year in advance for you."

"A year? Will we be on the Citadel that long?" Lynn bit her lip, feeling lost of what was happening around her.

"I. . . I don't know about that at this time." Mitaka said. "It depends on what compromise the Alliance and the Council will come to."

"But. . .I really don't understand why we can't go to Earth." Lynn crossed her arms, cupping her elbows.

"It's because of Saren." Mitaka scratched the back of his head. "The Alliance ambassador did get approval from the Council for us to send a frigate to Terminus space to retrieve you, but Saren states that we went in to cause trouble. The Terminus system and Council space don't get along and any ships under the Council seen in the Terminus system could be seen as an act of war."

"It's really that serious?"

"Oh, no. Saren is known for trying to cause trouble for humanity. Anytime we slip up, he's there to exaggerate the mishaps. He hates us."

She touched the bend of her elbow where Saren already proved that to her, painfully. The marks had become pale white lines due to the miracle medi-gel. She was amazed at how quick it could heal a surface wound while killing the pain.

Mitaka must have taken her silence for worry and said, "Winter will be living next door to you, so you won't be alone."

"What. . . what about Colette?" She licked her lips, fearing the answer.

Mitaka sighed, he must have feared her asking him about Colette. "Nothing. Lynn, I . . . .please don't get your hopes up."

The apartment she was provided made her think of a loft apartment. It was large open space with a set up stairs leading to an upper level without walls. The downstairs consisted of a kitchen area with a stove and a refrigerator along with a small dinner table near it. On the second floor was a double bed with a dresser. Tucked against the wall was a folded screen she could unfold for privacy if she had guests.

Lynn was provided a sponsor for her time on the Citadel. She was told that her sponsor would help her adjust to the new technology and lifestyle of the current time. Her sponsor's name was Alice Carter and she taught Lynn how to surf the Extranet and how to make purchases at kiosks. She spent a whole day with her, helping her to select a wardrobe.

"You should try this." She showed Lynn a long tight fitting dress. "This is the style for today."

"I don't think so." Lynn replied cycling through the styles on the kiosk. All the styles appeared to be form fitting. What happened to jeans and tee shirts, sweaters, or even tennis shoes? Or anything that allowed air between skin and cloth?

"Don't feel embarrassed, everyone is wearing this and you have a good figure. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Alice insisted bring up a selection of the dress in different colors. Alice was a pretty redhead with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She had a bright smile that made Lynn think of deranged camp counselors.

Lynn had noticed the change in her body as well. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't thin either. Having a child three years ago had made made her a little thick around the stomach and thighs. Now it was as if she had lost a large amount of weight with a flat stomach and thin legs. She had mentioned the weight loss to Dr. Paola and she said that her body may have burned the fat while in cryo.

Lynn conceded to purchasing the dress. The asari shop keeper had taken her measurements by scanning her with an omni-tool and uploaded the measurements into the kiosk to help determine what styles were in her human size. What the hell can omni-tools not do?

The shop keeper was Lynn's first time near an asari and though Lynn tried not to, she couldn't help but stare. She though that asari were simply blue women with folds on their head, but. . . they were so much more than that. She had a grace that no human woman could match and her face was beautiful and almost angelic. Lynn was impressed with the way she greeted them so cheerfully and friendly that Lynn could believe that she was genuinely happy to have them come and shop in her store, very much unlike the workers in Lynn's time who were tired and didn't care if you shop there or not.

Compared to the stocky turians and genius salarians, she had a hard time believing that the asari were the most powerful species in Council space. She mentioned this to Alice later while having a meal in one of the wards courtyards. Alice replied, "It's logical to think that, but then again you never seen an asari commando in action before. Lets just say turians are glad that there aren't very many."

Lynn toyed with the soup she had ordered. It was steaming hot and was served with an asari broth that had a sweet flavor with broiled meat and veggies from other planets. It wasn't bad, but it was different. "Is it. . . true about asari? That. . . they. . ." she tried to think of an acceptable word, ". . . 'date' other species and. . . other females?"

"Oh, absolutely." Alice set her half eaten sandwich on her plate. "And its also true that they can have children from other species."

"How? I mean, I had it explained to me before, but. . . its so hard to believe." Lynn glanced around fearing that her words would offend a passing asari.

"They have the ability to attune their nervous system to their partner and in doing so they can take your genetic makeup and use it to create an asari daughter. They don't take DNA at all, just the genetic mapping of it." Alice sipped her coffee. "And it's common knowledge. You'll see asari dating humans, turians, elcor, salarian, hanar, and in the Terminus systems, batarians."

"Those species aren't attractive to me. . . ." Lynn whispered in a low voice.

"That's the thing about asari. If they were going for looks, then they would stay within their own species. They are actually attracted to inner beauty in the real sense of a word. They'll get to know you and if they like you, they'll try to date you." Alice smiled and reached into her pocket for a holo image. "That is how I met Harla."

The holo was of Alice standing close to an asari whose long arms were around her waist. Lynn stared at the holo and glanced up at Alice. "Are you going to have children?" She asked dumbly stunned.

"Oh no, at least, the subject hasn't come up. I know she's getting into her Maiden stage so maybe if she wants to."

This conversation was too strange. She quickly changed the subject to something not so. . . .uncomfortable.

After that first day, she stayed in her apartment. Though Alice had shown her how to use the transit system and recommended some excellent stores and entertainment centers. She even recommended a few bars and nightclubs, but Lynn didn't feel like going out. She spent her time sitting in front of a vid screen in her pajamas. She alternated between watching the channels to thinking about her family. Sometimes she cried.

Watching the vid screen gave her some comfort. She was able to see aliens perform plots and stories on screen that in her old life had been reserved for humans. There was something new to learn every second. Watching the news nearly overwhelmed her. One species was doing something to make another species mad, agreements were forged and broken, etc. . . .it reminded her of the news on Earth in her time.

She laid on her side, a pillow hugged to her chest and a blanket over her. She thought about her lost family, this strange life she was forced into, Colette being taken from her, and Saren. Whenever she thought of the white face alien, her stomach knotted with fear and her arm ached.

The picture of her daughter was kept close by being placed it on her bedstead, propped against the alarm clock. She made sure to keep the photo tilted or faced up, she didn't want to see Saren's handwriting. It was as if he had tainted her daughter with his contact information.

But his words. . . they were in her mind. What if it wasn't an accident at all? What was the truth? And did she really want to know the truth?

As much as she had been fond of Mitaka on the ship, Saren had tainted that as well. She would look at him or think about him, and suspicion wormed it's way through her heart. Was he telling her the truth? Was he really there to help her to just to watch her for some men in black somewhere?

It made no sense and what the hell was GEP?

A better question would be if Saren was really suspicious of the Alliance or was he just looking for something to accuse the Alliance of?

She had a gut feeling that Saren doesn't waste his time on wild goose chases. Very likely, there was something going on and the Alliance was trying to cover up. And she was right there in the middle of it.

Who do you turn to when you are in a strange alien world and its possible your own people had betrayed you?

The apartment was so alien to her. Being on the station was alien as well. There was no day or night. Alice told her to sleep when she was tired, but it confused her body. She felt that she should be up when her mind was telling her that she needed sleep. So she just stayed in her pajamas and watched the vid.

Alice called her twice, sometimes three times daily. She invited Lynn to come with her and Harla to nightclubbing and to catch a vid each time. But each time, Lynn turned her down her invitation. It was finally on the fifth day, they had an exchange.

"Lynn, you can't stay in your apartment like a hermit."

It irked her that Alice was calling her by her first name without her permission. "I'm fine."

"Is it that you don't feel comfortable to be around aliens?"

Lynn, who had been laying on her side in front of the vid screen on the lower floor, sat up in horror. "No, I'm not a racist. . ."

"I'm not saying that you are. It's alright to be uncomfortable around other species. Especially in your position."

Lynn wasn't sure how to respond. She stayed silent and waited for Alice end the silence.

"So, I'm. . . worried about you."

_You're my sponsor, you are supposed to worry about me. _Lynn didn't say that. Instead she said, "I'm alright. Just don't worry about me, please. I have to go."

She hung up the comm and resumed falling into her pit.

She'd see something on the vid and she wondered what comment Gregory would make and if she saw a toy being advertised, she wondered if Maria would want it. And sometimes, she'd forget for a moment, a second. She'd forget and think of asking them. . . then she remembered and feel as if she ha been stabbed in the heart.

Sometimes, she just cried over the picture of her daughter. She grieved over the missed time. Missing her first day of school, her first tooth being lost, her teenage years, her graduating high school and college years, and her marriage. Gregory, he had moved on without her with another woman. She couldn't blame him. Of course, he would move on with his life if he believed her dead. She couldn't, shouldn't blame him. . . .but it just hurt so much.

Hell, after the way she acted before the Sleep, she wouldn't be surprised if he tried to find a new wife after she boarded the Athena. The disease had wracked not only her body, but her emotions and mind as well. She almost became a different person. . . .

_Her head swam, her mouth felt dry even though she threw up several times that day. Her temples throbbed with the splitting headache she was forced to endure due to painkillers might interfere with the medication that was making her nausea. _

_The door swung open. She lifted her head, her vision going blurry momentarily before she focused on her husband. He had a hand full flowers in hand and was giving her a small smile. "How are you feeling?"  
_

"_Like hell." She replied. Her arm was wrapped in bandages with pain shooting up her arm and into her shoulder if she so much as budged it. _

"_You'll feel better soon. . ._

"_I won't." She snapped, her hand clutching the blanket across her lap tightly. "I'm going to feel shitty until I die from this."_

"_Lynn, don't say that." Gregory looked regretful that he entered the room at all. He stayed near the door as he if wanted to step back out of it, to flee from her. "You have to have hope. . ."_

"_Don't preach at me about hope. Don't sound like Diane, okay." She leaned her head back, budging her arm making her yelp. She gritted her teeth waiting for the pain to dull enough to relax. "Shit. . . .sometimes. . . .sometimes I wish I would just die and it would stop."  
_

"_Dammit, don't say that." Gregory mumbled as he approached the stand beside her bed where a vase with wilting flowers sat. He began to carefully replace the dying flowers with the more livelier ones. Lynn watched him. The new flowers were bright daisies and in Lynn's eyes they were mocking her. Mocking her with their youthful lively color. Their unmarked white petals were free of any blemishes or tainted marks. The marigolds, the flower that had been at her side for the last week, had began to lose their golden petals. Some of those petals were resting on the surface of the stand. _

_The marigold diminished, the dying visage suited her. Not the daisies. _

"_All you do is nothing." Lynn's voice was so icy and hateful, she barely recognized it as her own. "All you can do is give me flowers. . .I don't want flowers! Take them out of here! They make me sick!"_

_Gregory paused with both flowers in his hands. "Maria picked the daisies for you, Lynn."_

Lynn pressed the heels of her hand to her eyes and guilt rolled her. It was all Gregory could do for her. Support her and give her flowers and gifts from himself and others. And be the brunt of her pain and anger.

She didn't deserve him. She was glad that she had gone to Sleep. Now he had the loving wife he should have gotten. And Maria. . . .maybe her stepmother was more attentive. . . .God knows Lynn tried. . . .during her illness. . .

At the end of the first week, Winter moved in and he made sure that Lynn knew about his moving in.

She had been napping on the couch, having fallen asleep in the middle of an asari drama. A loud slamming snagged her from her deep sleep and she sat up with a jolt, throwing off the blanket. The slamming was coming from her door.

"What the hell!" She shouted as she scrambled off the bed. She stumbled to the door and fumbled at the seal. A metallic coffee maker nearly slammed into her face.

Winter was holding the coffee maker with both hands. It was obvious that he had been slamming it into her door. He bared his teeth in a wide grin. "Howdy neighbor."

"What the hell are you doing?" Lynn blinked her eyes, wondering if she was awake or not.

"I knocked, but you didn't answer, so I knocked louder." Winter tossed the coffee maker aside and brushed past her to glance around in her home. "Wow, looks a lot like mine."

"I think they are both identical." She rubbed her eyes and glared at him. "What do you want?"

"Just to see how ya are." Winter walked around. "I think your apartment is bigger."

"Fine, it's bigger. I'm fine. Nice to see you. Goodbye." She motioned at the door.

"How's your arm?" Winter held up his arm and made a motion of poking himself with a needle. "The one Arty went sticky sticky on."

That was something she didn't want to be reminded of. Her arm had healed with faint marks on it. "Look, I really appreciate you checking on me, but I am fine. . . .don't you. . . have a sponsor that. . . .would take you out?"

"I did, but he told me to stop calling him and they told me that I had to keep 20 feet away from him at all times."

Lynn took a step away from him. "Okay. . ."

"Well, gotta run. If C-sec comes by asking for me, you don't know when I'll be back."

"I don't know that anyway."

"Than it's cool!" Winter gave her a thumbs up and strolled out the door.

It wasn't the last time she heard from him. The next morning, she went downstairs for that she was in a rare mood for some breakfast. She thought about frying an egg and having a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Lynn."

She froze. The voice came through a hole in the wall, three feet from the floor and cut in a square shape. She stared at it stunned and not able to think or process what she was seeing. Winter's eyes peeked at her through the hole. "Mornin' neighbor. Up early?"

"What have you done?" Lynn noticed the square shape piece of metal on the floor right below the hole.

"Tested out my new power tools. This way we can visit without having to leave our apartments. Neat, ain't it?"

"Are you 12 years old?" Lynn spoke amazed and horrified at the same time. She knelt staring at the hole, and glared at the grinning eyes staring back at her. "I can't believe you did this!"

"It was easy. These laser tools cut the wall like warm butter." Winter announced flashing a wide grin that revealed white teeth.

"You are crazy and I am going to request that I be moved to a different apartment. . .or better yet, a different Ward. No, no, a different arm of the Citadel!"

"Awesome! Meet ya there then!" Winter disappeared from the hole and she heard him walk out of his apartment.

"Son of a bitch." Lynn whispered under her breath as she pushed herself to her feet. Forget breakfast, she wasn't living near a crazy man.

She picked up the comm and tried to remember Alice's number, or she could go on the Extranet and request Alice Carter. As she headed to the console to do so, her front door spread apart. At first, she believed it to be Winter Matthews giving into his homicidal side and had come to take her out with his power tools.

Instead of Winter standing looking maniacal wielding power tools, instead there was a squat green alien that greatly resembled an insect. It stalked into her apartment on long spindly legs and she screamed. She back away so fast her back smacked against the wall behind her. Her thumb pressed the buttons, fear snatching number from her mind. The alien went to the hole in the wall while she smashed the comm to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Thank God! Alice, there is an alien in my apartment!" Lynn moved toward the couch, watching it. It was doing something to the wall.

"What? Which kind?"

"I . . . I don't know. . . .it's short and green. . . ."

"Oh. . . ." Alice exhaled a long breath through the comm. "It's alright, it's just a Keeper."

"What. . . ? It's in my apartment. . ."

"That's what they do sometimes. . . what is it doing?"

"Uh. . ." Lynn leaned forward, over the couch. "I think it's repairing the wall."

"You have nothing to be afraid of. Keepers are completely harmless. You are more of a danger to it than it is to you."

"They do repairs?" The cheerful relief in Alice's voice made her relax and calm her pounding heart.

"Sort of. They keep the Citadel running, but they do sometimes go into homes and offices and rearrange furniture for their own reasons."

"Why doesn't anyone stop them?"

"Because they self-destruct if someone hurts them or stop them from doing their job."

Lynn sat down heavily on the couch on her knees watching the alien with wariness. "They blow up?"

"No, no, no! They just melt into a puddle. It's strange and no one knows why or how they do that. But as soon as one melts, another one appears to finish the work that the first one couldn't. They're not dangerous at all."

The Keeper backed away from the wall, pivoted on it's long legs and stalked out of the apartment the way it had came. Lynn glanced at the wall; the hole was gone and was replaced by smooth metal. The wall looked so flawless, she could only find the spot by memory.

"But I had my door locked. . . .how did it get in?"

"That's another strange thing about them. No matter the security lock, or how long the combination number is, they always get to where they want to go. They have boggled even the salarians' Special Tasks Group security. But really, they are not a threat to anyone. People tend to ignore them after a while."

"So. . . I shouldn't be too concerned?" Lynn had stood and locked the door back.

"No, you shouldn't be. It happens all the time. You're lucky that all it wanted was to repair your wall instead of rearranging your bedroom." Alice chuckled in her ear. "Harla tells me that at least once a month her friend at work has his office rearranged by a Keeper. His office is just down the hall from hers, yet they never go into hers. No one is able to find out why they do what they do."

Lynn moved to the kitchen, now feeling a little hungry again. "I'm sorry for bothering you."

"Oh, no, don't worry about. I'm glad that you called." Alice spoke in a very warm tone that made Lynn grimaced. "I just wanted to tell you that your Citizenship forms have come through. You are not a legal citizen of the Citadel."

"Oh." Lynn tried to remembered if she ever applied for citizenship. She seemed to remember Alice mentioning it once before.

"I'm forwarding the documents to your console. You'll want to transfer them to a datapad so you'll have a hard copy. Those prove that you are a citizen of the Citadel station."

"I see." She opened the fridge and collected the eggs. Alice had taken her grocery shopping on her first day on the Citadel so her fridge was well stocked with human and asari food. Alice had insisted that the asari had great tastes in food.

"Now you'll have to take them tomorrow to C-sec. They just need to get your identification."

"I'm sorry?" Lynn paused in retrieving a frying pan from the wall.

"Don't worry, think of it like a physical. They'll want to get your finger prints, blood type, take a holo of you, etc. It's a necessary formality. They already have your history so they know you aren't a terrorist or an enemy of the Council, of course, but they still have to be able to ID you if the worst was to happen."

"Okay. . . when do I have to go and where do I go to?" Lynn set the pan on the stove and turned it on. The metallic bars beneath the pan began to turn a deep shade of red.

"I'll come and get you tomorrow and we'll go together." Alice promised her. Lynn could just imagine her smiling face as she spoke.

"Thank you. I'll be ready at what time?"

Alice gave her the time and just as Lynn thanked her again and was ready to end the call, but then she remembered, "Wait, wait, I. . .I met Winter."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line and then, "Yes? Did you. . .did he do something?"

Funny she should ask that. "He cut a hole into my wall. That was what brought the Keeper into my apartment. Needless to say, I'd like to move away from him or him away from me."

"Did he. . . other than the wall, he didn't say or do anything inappropriate." Alice sounded different, agitated, and worried. Lynn never imagine hearing the usually cheerful Alice like this.

"Well, he did smash a coffee maker into my door when I didn't wake up to his knocking. . . .is this something I should be worried about?"

"No! No! He. . He hasn't seriously injured anyone."

"But. . . .he has hurt someone. . . .?"

"I'll see what I can do to get you moved. Just. . .don't count on it. The embassy has already put down a deposit on the apartment for you two. Have a nice day and goodbye."

With that, Alice hung up. Lynn placed the comm onto the table and cooked her breakfast. The eggs were good and the coffee perked her up a little bit. She was feeling better this morning. Then she felt guilty about it.

Her thoughts went out to Colette. Was she still alive? Where was she now? Mitaka had gently made it clear not to expect them to retrieve Colette. In other words, she was gone forever.

Lynn lightly tapped the fork against the plate as she remembered the girl's attempts to comfort her back on the Waver. The girl had been so curious about the new universe they found themselves in. She pored over the datapad, studying the new technology and aliens and was eager to show Lynn what she had discovered. The girl had attempted to be cheerful despite the loss of her family. Now she was either dead or being forced into hard labor or, since God is so cruel, being raped by an alien somewhere.

She brushed her hair out of her face and washed the dish and fork before resuming her routine of watching the Extranet channels and remembering the past.

That night, she fell asleep on the couch in the middle of Galactic News. There had been an special on about an human colony, Eden Prime. It discussed the beauty of the planet and how accomplished it had become since it was colonized by humanity.

She was awakened by the comm this time. It's shrilly chirp snatched her from sleep. She rolled off the couch and stumble to her feet. She swung around the couch and headed to the comm which was still resting on the table.

"Hello?"

"Are you Winter Matthew's wife?" A harsh voice asked.

"I know him, but we are not married." She quickly added, "And I'm not his girlfriend either."

The last thing she wanted was to be confused of having a relationship with that man. And also, how did he get her comm number?

"I don't care if you are his mother or sister." The voice snapped. "Get down here and get him."

She clutched the phone and said in a calm, but firm voice. "Hey, you are not going to call me with that tone and order me around like that. You tell me who the hell you are and what is wrong with Winter."

There was a short pause and then the voice replied. "Officer Harkin, I'm from C-Sec. Your friend here is passed out drunk and threw up on an Asari dancer at Chora's Den. He gave us your number and we called you."

"What? He can't get into a rapid transport himself and come home?"

"He could barely give us your number." Officer Harkin replied sourly. "Now are you coming or not?"

"Look, I'm not responsible for him. I just met him this morning."

"Fine, then I guess I'm arresting him then for drunkenness."

"Wait, what? You are arresting him for being drunk in a bar? Why don't you arrest all the patrons there then?"

"He threw up on an asari, I could label that as an assault."

"That is ridiculous. You can't do that." Lynn pressed her fingers to her brow. "Alright, I'll come and get him. I'll need directions."

"Just tell the Rapid Transport that is where you want to go, idiot."

Click.

The insult stung and she swallowed a lump in her throat. No, she was not going to give him that much from her. Why were people so mean in this day and edge? Where did manners and politeness go in the future?

What the hell did she do that for? She had no obligation to drag Winter home and that was the job of the Systems Alliance embassy anyway. She could just call Alice and let her know. But then, she would likely encourage Lynn to go herself just to get her out of her apartment.

She opted for a short shower and to change into one of those full body suits that seem to be so popular in this day and age. It came with gloves attached and she was surprised at how they clung to her fingers so snugly. It could almost feel the surface of the table as she drew a finger across it. She clasped her hands together and could feel her palms getting warm through the fabric.

She stepped outside her apartment with the datapad bed with her Citizenship paperwork written onto it if it was needed. She felt a bit vulnerable going out solo in this strange station, but she figured that it was time for her to know how to get about herself if she was to be living here.

It wasn't hard to locate a Rapid Transit, it was located in front of the apartment complex and there were others awaiting for transits themselves. She waited and was surprised to see that it wasn't a long wait at all. A transit came by every two minutes and some of the people were leaving in groups. She had only to summon one and input her destination and within minutes she was being taken through the lower parts of the station toward the Lower Wards.

It dropped her off at a walkway where a few patrons were coming and going. She headed up the walkway, taking notice of a glowing, lustful image of an Asari reclining along an arrow pointing toward the entrance of the bar. She could hear the alien music and the hum of alien languages being spoken in conversation.

She was greeted to the sight of a dome shame interior with a round central were drinks were served and Asari women danced atop. There were other dancers, on their knees on large dais moving their limbs and sensual motions. They wore black, skin tight outfits that enunciated their lithe figures and Lynn was very surprised to see that some of them were human women.

She walked around the circle, catching the eyes of a few patrons, aliens with some humans among them. Then she saw a tall balding man and a thin Asari woman in a C-sec uniforms standing near a prone body of Winter Matthews.

"Oh my God!" She hurried forward, but then hung back, cover her nose and mouth with a hand. "Oh. . . my. . . . God!"

Winter's clothes looked wrinkled and there were stains which Lynn could only assume were when he either spilled his drink or vomited. He even had a developing bruise on his cheek, right below his left eye. However, he still had a ghost of a smile on his lips in his sleep.

"You Lynn Sheridan?" The balding man asked her and she instantly recognized it as Harkin, the rude man on the phone.

"Yes, I am." She answered moving closer to Winter and breathing through her mouth which was worse because she could almost taste the smell.

"Then get him out of here. The owner wants him gone." Harkin ordered before he turned away.

She glared him for a moment and then knelt next to Winter and touched his shoulder. "Hey, can you stand?"

Winter opened his eyes staring up at her with lucid blue eyes. "Hey, hey, Lynn. . .Lynn, listen, . . .I got a question."

He tugged at her sleeve, urging her to lean forward closer to his face and his breath. She took in a breath through his mouth and held her breath as she leaned forward.

Winter whispered, "Was it you he was calling an idiot earlier? Over the commlink?"

She nodded. "It doesn't matter. Come on, let's see if we can get you standing."

"Wait one second." Winter replied, leaning his head back, closing his eyes, and giving his face a relaxed, unconscious. Then he lifted one leg, bending the knee back to his chest, then he grabbed the edges of a table one one side and a chair on the other. He edged himself downward, his body sliding across the floor; closer toward the C-sec officers who were watching the other patrons.

"What. . . .are you doing?" She whispered. Then she saw that his foot held perfectly behind Harkin's back knee and she realized what he was about to do too late before she could stop him.

Then he kicked forward. His foot collided with the back of Harkin's knee. She heard a sickening pop and the man toppled forward, smacking his forehead against the edge of a table. The conversation halted and all Lynn could hear was the bar music twittering.

Harkin howled, clutching his forehead. "SON OF A BITCH!"

The Asari officer swore in her language and then punched in a number in her comm asking for medical attention. The bartender said that he had a medical kit behind the bar.

Seeing Harkin fall had stunned her and made her stomach twist to see him so hurt, but. . . .there was a part of her that thought, _"Good."_

She glanced down at Winter and could see the smile on his lips. "Sorry, accident, I was trying to stand. . . ."

He was heavy. He was clinging to her back as she tried to carry him, but his feet dragged on the ground. The C-sec officers were more concerned about their injured than about getting a drunk home. She had to cart him down the walkway and to the Rapid Transport.

She tried to prop him against the door on his side of the Transit, but he kept falling back across her lap. She finally gave up and let him lay there, propping an elbow against the side into and leaning her head into her palm. Winter mumbled into her stomach in an audible voice that she couldn't hope to figure out.

Winter grunted and shifted over onto his back, his face upwards towards her. "Hey, Lynn, Lynn, ya know somethin'? I like living in this day and age."

"Good for you." Lynn muttered, trying not to look at him. "Can't you try to sit up?"

"No, I'm comfy here." He shifted making himself more comfortable that irked Lynn more. "That war we had. . . .was bad. . . real bad."

"I guess so." Lynn replied taking a deep breath and then regretted it when she smelled Winter.

"I mean. . . damn. . . . that was a bad war between humans and the quarians."

Lynn's eyebrows rose just a touch. "What? I think it was turians that the First Contact Was was with."

"No, it was quarians. Bad nasty war. . . many deaths. . . ."

"You're drunk." Lynn leaned her head back and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Just go to sleep. I'll wake you when we get home."

Getting him to his apartment was no easy matter. She nearly had to dragged him to the elevator. She had his right arm hung around her shoulders and found her legs struggling to support his uneven weight. She dragged him to his apartment and left him leaning against the wall while she fumbled in his pockets for his card key. She found it in his right pants pocket and unlocked his door. She tucked it into her mouth as she dragged him inside and to his couch.

She noticed the power laser tools scattered on the floor at what she assumed was where he had cut the hole in her wall. And his from this side of it.

She heaved him onto his couch and panted. Her lower back was aching and she was out of breath. However, she felt accomplished that she was able to get him home by herself without having to contact Alice. She made sure that Winter was comfortable before she left the apartment, locking it behind her.

Just as she was drawing her card key from her pocket, she paused. Her door was unlocked. Her blood froze in her veins. She locked this door, she know she did. All of her life, she always locked the door of her home if no one else was there.

She stood back, and thought about going back next door to Winter, but then she remembered that she locked the door. Dammit! And her comm was inside and she hadn't considered taking it with her.

Okay, she'd open the door and look inside. If there was a robber, she'd shut and run for help. Maybe she was being silly. Maybe the door didn't locked as she had thought. She pressed the seal and it hissed opened.

She heard Maria laughing. Her heart stopped and her bottom lip trembled. The apartment was dark except for the light from the vid screen.

"Mommy! Mommy! Lookit dis!"

"Wait, wait, don't open it yet. Daddy wants to take make a video of you."

That was her voice just now. . .

She stepped into the apartment, letting the door shut behind her. Her eyes were drawn to the vid screen where her daughter was pointing at gifts under a Christmas tree. This was a video of her last Christmas with her family before the Sleep.

"Mommy, dis mine? Dis mine?" Her daughter tugged at a large wrapped gift that was leaning against the wall.

Her hand appeared at the top of the gift, fearing that the gift would topple onto her small daughter. The hand had thin dark streaks on it. "No, no, honey, this is Daddy's."

The video paused as her daughter turned to focus on the other gifts. For the first time, she noticed the figure sitting on her couch. "The embassy meant for you to receive this a few days ago. I took the liberty of reviewing the material myself before delivering it."

She drew back, fear raking through her soul. "Get out."

"Don't be rude." The turian turned back to the vid. "I just have some questions for you."

"Are you going to ask with another needle?" She started when her back hit the wall behind her.

"Only if I have to." Saren replied and fast forwarded the recording and then paused it. Lynn stared at the image of herself kneeling beside her daughter, helping her open a gift. Her stomach was swelled outward with child. "You records stated you only had one child."

Lynn's lips pressed together in a tight line as the memory rolled through her mind.

"What happened?"

"He died. He died before he was born." Lynn whispered moving sideways to the kitchen. The frying pan was still at the side of the sink on a dish towel to dry.

Saren didn't offer any condolences. "From the disease?"

"The treatments." Lynn wrapped her fingers around the handle. She was no fool. She knew Saren surely had many years of combat training and armed as well. But still, it felt good to have the pan in her hand. "The treatments. . . they were too stressful and painful for my body. . .to sustain a baby."

"Your ordeal has cost you greatly." Saren stated matter of factually and without a trace of sympathy in his tone. "It needn't have been."

"I want you to leave." Lynn raised her voiced and raised her chin. "You are not welcomed here."

"Neither is your kind." Saren replied pushing himself to his feet. "Yet, you humans take over as if it is your right. You're never satisfied with the privileges the Council grants you. You're spoiled children begging for candies never to be sated until you devour everything."

_Saren hates humans._

Her back pressed against the edge of the counter. "You can't hold me responsible for everything my kind has done. I had nothing to do with the First Contact War or anything since. I've been Asleep for hundred years. . . .you know that."

"I know that. I also know you feel no kinship with the humans around you because you feel out of place. You don't feel that you are apart of them." Saren walked around the couch and turned his cold blue eyes on her. "They are as alien to you as I am."

"Please, just go away." She pointed at the door.

"I know who is to blame for your situation, but I need more information." He was walking toward her.

She moved, putting the table between them. "Why. . . why are you doing this to me? What about. . .Winter? He's like me."

Saren raised an eye ridge. "He has brain damage or some irregularities of his brain which resulted in his . . . odd behavior. His testimony would be irrelevant. Colette Laurent is missing and Margery Kayla is in worst condition than Winter Matthews. You're the only one present and of stable mind."

He moved around the table, strategically placing himself between her and the door. She mentally cursed herself for her stupidity and backed away from him. "I don't understand what it is you want from me. I don't know anything."

"You do know something. The only reason why I'm not breaking your fingers for information is that I believe that you believe don't know anything." He stood by the table and she was in a corner of the wall. "Sit down," he pulled a chair from the table, "and just answer my questions and I'll leave you in peace."

"I. . . .I don't trust you not to hurt me." Lynn kept a firm grip on her pan.

"Sit down." Saren repeated, with a tinge of ice in his voice. He was loosing his patience with her.

She hesitated before she stepped forward, her eyes never leaving Saren as she sat down. He moved around her, sending ice across her back and took the forlorn chair across from her. She felt as if she was being interrogated as she seen in police shows.

"When you were sick, you signed up with a foundation that was funded from a science corporation. What was the name of it?"

"The foundation was called SNF. Sin National Foundation."

"Sin? Why was it called Sin?" Saren quirked an eye ridge again.

"That is the common name for the disease. Scientists and doctors called it something else, a word I can't remember, but the common term for it was Sin. It was something that religious nuts called it and people caught on until it was a household name." She set the pan on the table, but not to far away from her grasp.

"So Sin National Foundation was founded to treat and cure Sin? How many patients did they treat?"

"Not as many as you would think. They only accepted certain cases. Severe cases or rare cases. . . I even heard that some rich families would pay them under the table to take on sicken relatives." Lynn ran a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ears. "They were working for a corporation after all. I think it was call. . . .Bio-Care? I think that was the name of it. . . ."

Saren consulted a omni-tool that lit up along his arm. "Yes, that was its name in your time, but it branched out from medicine to military weaponry thirty years after your incident. Then it melded into the Alliance."

"I. . .I didn't know that."

"They didn't tell you?"

"I didn't ask." Lynn hoped the questioning would be over soon. Sitting across from Saren made her want to vomit from the churning in her stomach.

"How did you become part of the program?" Saren scanned through data that was sliding down the view screen of his omni-tool. It was in a different language, and was likely backwards from her view. She didn't try to read or understand it.

"They approached me." Lynn replied rubbing the bridge of her nose. "My. . . my condition was rather aggressive and resisted conventional treatments, so the doctor sent my files to the SNF and a week later I received a call telling me that they wanted me to sign up. I turned them down."

"You turned them down?" Saren raised his eyes to hers. "Why?"

She glanced away, and found herself rubbing her hands together. "They wanted me to move away from home. . . I didn't want to displace my family. . . ."

"Oh?" He didn't believe her.

"Yes, I was pregnant and my daughter was going to start school soon. . . ."

"You couldn't find a preschool in the area they would move you to? In fact, they did offer to take care of the costs of moving and provide a home for you during the course of your treatments with them. They even gave you brochures for homes and local schools."

If he knew all of that, then why was he asking her these questions? "How. . . .did you know that?"

"You give me the truth and I may tell you."

"I don't feel comfortable talking to you. I want you to leave. . . ." Lynn had enough of his prying into her private life.

"I can make you more uncomfortable." Saren promised her with a thick layer of ice in his voice. "They offered you a lot. I know that you accepted a considerable amount of money from the foundation and they also promised you free healthcare for you and your family which they did provide to them after your disappearance."

She was so stunned, her lips tingled and her ears and cheeks drained of blood. "How. . . ?"

"You'll learn that information is easy to attain if you know the right people and have the means to get that information out of them." Saren leaned forward and drew datapads from his suit. He tossed them onto the table. "I know that they contacted you several times, upping the offer each time. They were very eager to get you into their program, but you resisted them each time, until . . . .this happened."

He pushed a datapad forward. "You had signed your daughter up for a preschool six months before, but the week before the school year started, you withdrew your daughter. Is it because of the petition floating around the families of the other children to keep your daughter from attending? Because they didn't want their children to contract the disease?"

Lynn covered her mouth and nose with a steeple of her hands and fingers. She inhaled and felt her eyes sting. She swallowed as the tears rolled down her cheeks as she inhaled. He watched her with interest and she realized that he was checking her reaction. "You are a bastard. . . a heartless bastard and I want you out of here."

"Tell me why you refused SNF at the beginning."

"Because I heard things about them. That their treatments were too. . . painful. . . .too radical. And I heard that if you sign a contract with them, then you can't see any other doctors and people have gone to court to get out of those contracts. . . .it sounded shady so I didn't want to do it, but I was forced to. My daughter was blacklisted from the local schools because of my illness and my husband's insurance wouldn't cover all of my medical bills and treatments. . ."

"You had a lawyer go over the contracts with you?"

"No, we couldn't afford one. We read the contracts ourselves. It seemed alright so I signed them. They began treatments that week."

"So you did read the contracts. . ." Saren tone took a light condescending tone. He drew one of the datapads toward him and typed a few keys. He swung it around for her to read. "Is this what you signed?"

It took her a moment of reading before she nodded, "Yes, this is the contact I signed."

"And you said that you read it?" Saren drew the datapad back and pressed the scroll keys with a thumb. "Every word?"

"I. . . .yes. . . ." Lynn faltered, clenching her hands. She felt her pulse quicken as dread touched her heart. "What did I miss?"

"It promises you what you said before. Full financial backing for moving, full line of treatments and that included experimental treatments as well, also full compensation to your family upon your death." Saren drew a talon tip along a highlighted paragraph, "But right here, it states that when you are pronounced dead, that your body is used for experiments for the betterment for further study."

"But I didn't die. . . ."

"You were pronounced dead." He let the meaning sink in.

At first, her mind kept the revelation at bay and then it slowly seeped in and spread. Her lips tremble as a cold sweat swept over her body. At first, she felt nothing, hoping that another explanation would appear that would dismiss what Saren was strongly implying. It was too much, her body reacted before her mind had fully grasped it. Lynn surged from her chair and vomited into the sink. When she had finished, her face felt hot and her throat burned. Turning on the facet, she washed her face and rinsed her mouth out. She meticulously checked her hair to make sure that there was nothing clinging to the strands.

Treading through her hair, she put together the truth. SNF had arranged for the mishap to occur with the science station. Things had been done to them while they were in cryo-stasis. Winter's completely different personality, Margery's insanity, and most likely Colette's chronic nosebleeds. . . .were those the effects caused by further experiments performed on them unknowingly while in deep sleep? And if those changes occur to the others, what changes happened to her? She felt a need to go to the bathroom, strip down and examine herself from head to toe. To see any scars or marks that weren't there before she went under.

"Done?"

Damn, she had forgotten that Saren had been behind her. "What did they do to us?"

"Not sure, even that information is buried deep within the Alliance, but it did have something to do with genetic manipulation."

"But they were suppose to be curing a disease. . . "

"The disease. . . the nature of it is strange. It acts like cancer, but other than killing the body, it affects the DNA structure at a level that was impossible for your people to understand with the level of technology of your time. Perhaps if we had a sample of the disease today, it could be studied further, but for some reason, years after your "death", it disappeared."

"It wasn't cured?"

"No, within five years, the new cases were very mild and then fewer cases showed up until within ten years, the Sin disease was a thing of the past." Saren glanced at another set up files, "There were several theories, but nothing concrete on why such a distasteful disease would disappear."

"Do you have any idea of what they did to us? Nothing at all?" There was a high lilt in her voice that made her sound like a scared child. She hated to sound like this, but her fear was much stronger than her pride.

"Again, that is information I was unable to attain at this time. But that isn't to say that I can't find out, but not freely." He curled his tri-digit hands together and stared at her piercingly.

"What do you want?"

"Your testimony. Just for you to simply give your story before a hearing against the Alliance."

"That's it?" Lynn crossed her arms across her chest. "You just want me to press charges against my government?"

Saren nodded, "Accuse them of atrocities against sentient life. Publicly, to the Council. Doing this will provide you many benefits. You will be thoroughly examined by top professionals to see what changes were made in your body and any treatment needed will be provided, you'll be well compensated by your government, and the lies that ruined your life will come to light for Council space."

Lynn's lips tensed into a thin line. "You want me to publicly disgrace the Alliance."

"I just want you to have justice."

"Don't lie." Lynn shook her head, her hands gripping her elbows tightly. "Don't lie to me, don't fucking lie to me. No more lies."

Saren studied her for a full minute, a full minute of Lynn waiting for him to speak or do something. She shifted her legs uncomfortably and leaned against the sink's edge. He finally spoke, "I'll let you think this other, then."

He pushed away the chair and collected the datapads tucking them away. He dropped a card on the table, "New number, call me when you change your mind." Lynn stepped away, as he walked toward the door. She felt a great sense of relief that he was finally leaving without another incident toward her. Then he halted as he neared the door, he turned and looked at her, "Have you ever heard of an organization called Cerberus?"

"Cerberus? No, I never heard of them." She slowly shook her head.

"Oh, well. . . ." He turned and walked out the door.


	8. Citadel 2

Lynn couldn't relax until after the door slid shut behind him. She pull a chair back and collapsed into it. It felt as if Saren had taken all her bones with him, her body felt boneless. She leaned her head back and rotated it around. She just felt tired and wanted nothing more than to go to bed and sleep for a hundred years more.

Was it all true? She had been told over and over that the incident had been an explosion. . . an incident with the ship Athena. God, she needed a cup of coffee or tea. . . .

As she brewed the coffee in the high tech device she would have loved to have a hundred years ago. Something was bothering her, but she couldn't tell what was wrong. Of course, everything that Saren had told her was nagging at her mind, but something else it seemed to be a pain in her ass right now. She poured the bitter drink into a mug and nursed it on her way to the couch, then made a detour once she remembered that her family's recordings were there. She didn't want to spend the next few hours being sad. She wanted to stay alert and think.

She walked up the short stairs to the second floor bedroom and sat on the bed, her hands cupping her drink. "I signed up with SNF. . .or Bio-care, I should say."

Rumors surrounded SNF, there had been new articles about how radical and unethical their treatments were for Sin. When they contacted her they had been friendly and supportive; sending her many pamphlets and offers. She had been shocked at how persistent they had been when she turned them down. They kept calling, making more and more offers. Her husband had joked that they were going to come and kidnapped her if she didn't join them.

But she did join and the treatments had been. . . excruciating. They burned her with lasers, cut up her arm for skin samples, and had her take medicine that caused nausea, depression, and sores to appear inside her mouth and throat. And all the blood they drew. . . .every day they took samples. . . .she swore she was feeling anemic from the blood tests. They brought up the option of deep sleep for five years where their knowledge of the disease advanced and they would have better treatments and possibly a cure when she awoke. After much hesitation and soul searching, she agreed.

If what Saren said was true, then it seemed that Bio-care ran further experiments with her while she was in deep sleep. But why? Why put her to sleep if they could have ran their tests with her awake. . . .did that mean they wanted to do things that she didn't agree to? Or that was illegal? Genetic manipulation. . . .that was something she certainly didn't agree to anything like that.

That urge to undress and look over her body came again. Lynn set her half full mug aside on the bedstead and undressed. She stood before the floor and ceiling mirror in the adjacent bathroom in her underwear. There were lights marks from her injuries during the pirate raid, but nothing that didn't come to an explanation. She turned around to check her back, and if she hadn't stepped in the right light, she would have missed it. Along her spine was small pinkish marks. She scooted closer to the light with her back to the mirror and her head craned at an odd angle.

There was a pink dot that was at the base of her back, right above her buttocks. And more than an inch above that, was another pink dot. And another. There was a trail of pink dots, about half an inch wide lining along her spine. They ended up at the base of her neck. She reached over her shoulder and touched the top one. It felt soft, like scar tissue. She probed the back of her neck with her fingertips and at the base of her skull, after pulling back her hair, she felt more soft skin.

She hurried back to her bedroom and grabbed the hand mirror from the dresser and returned. She held it up, letting her seek the reflection of the back of her head. There were twin pink marks, twice as big as the ones on her spine. They were set perfectly two inches from each other at the base of her skull.

She knew that these marks weren't here before she went to sleep. One thing she became aware of when she became sick was the marks on her body. Whether they got big, any new ones appear, or if old ones disappear.

She tilted her head forward and her fingers began prodding her skull. She couldn't see or feel if there were new marks. . . .she would need someone to check for her. . . .crap.

It was out of sheer desperation that she asked Winter over for a favor.

"So ya jes want me to poke around and find more pink spots." Winter stood in front of her smoking a cigarette.

"Yes."

"For lice?"

"No! For pink spots, like the one I showed you on my back."

"You think they're on your skull?"

"I hope not, but. . .I have to know, so. . . . just look for me, okay?" She tilted her head forward, letting her hair hang down.

"Ya know. . . .ya could shave off your hair and you can see it easily."

"I'm not shaving my head, that's why I asked you to come over here and search." She glanced up, "And put out the cigarette, you'll set my hair on fire."

Winter laughed, rolling the stick between his lips before taking it and setting it at the edge of her dresser. He made a show of flexing his fingers and then drew them through her hair. She closed her eyes, and found herself relaxing as the gentle tingling feeling of her hair pushed and drawn aside.

"Yeah, I see one. . . . .two. . . .three. . . "

"Put your finger on each one, so I have an idea where it is."

"Kay." He replied as he continued. "Right there. . . and here. . . and one more right there."

Six more spots. Three atop of her head, and three more forward, right above her temples and one hidden above her forehead. She sat up once he had finished and brushed her hair straight. Standing in front of her dresser her mirror, mechanically brushing. Were these surgical scars? Scars from when they performed procedures on her while she slept. What did they do!

She pursed her lips and asked, "Winter, did. . . did you notice any. . .spots. . . ?"

"Just the ones that float in front of my eyes." Winter replied lazily. "Naw, I ain't got spots. Let's talk money. You owe me 50 creds."

"What!" Lynn turned and stared at him incredulously. "Why!"

"For the massage, I gave ya."

"I asked you to do me a favor! You didn't say anything about me paying you!" Lynn slapped her brush on the dresser. "How about I just cook you dinner and we call it even?"

"Deal!"

She kept rubbing her scalp, feeling those spots that Winter pointed out. What did they do? She wanted to go get a deep scan and see what changes were made inside her brain. She felt the same, she thought the same . . . or was she remembering thinking this way? Paranoia set in as she had the horrible thought of all her memories being manufactured. That she never had a daughter or a husband. . . . She hurried downstairs toward her vid where the recordings of her family had remained. Quickly turning on the vid and ordering it to playback the last recording. The visual of the last Christmas she shared with her family reassured her that her memories were real, but that didn't stop her anxiety from creeping along her spine.

"Hey, Lynn, how long is a light year?" Winter asked her as he slid down the banister like a child, his long legs swinging in front of him. He hopped off the bar and glanced at the vid screen, "Hey, cute kid."

"Light year. . . .I think that's how long light can travel in a year."

"And how many miles is that?" Winter had reclaimed his cigarette and had it rolling between his lips.

"What? I. . ." She tore her eyes from the screen and ordered it off. "I don't know. . . a lot of miles. . . ."

"Six trillion miles." Winter held up one long finger. "That is one light year. Just one. But think about hot many miles it is from Earth to the Terminus system?"

"I . . . I don't know. . . ." Lynn wasn't an astronomer. "My guess is. . . . 100?"

"Try thousands of light years away from Earth. If it wasn't for FTL drives or Mass Relays, there was no way anyone would get anywhere. But then again the Athena science ship didn't have FTL drives. . . and we didn't find a Mass Relay then. . . how fast do you think it drifts in space?"

Lynn licked her lips, slowly understanding what Winter was trying to tell her. "I. . .I don't know. . . not. . . fast. . . .I. . .I don't think. It was drifting for one hundred years. . . "

"Yeah, but we didn't travel the speed of light and if we did, we'd only get as far as a hundred light years, which is still far off from the Terminus system." Winter walked over to her sink and flicked the ashes from his cigarette and turned on the facet to rinse them away. He took a long drag and turned her to her, his eyes somber, "We didn't get out there by ourselves, Sheridan. We had to have had help to get out that far from Earth."

"So you are saying that someone. . . .found the Athena and towed it out to the Terminus system with us on it? Still asleep and they didn't awaken us? Why?" Lynn leaned against the back of the couch, her hands nervously tapping her thighs.

Winter set his hip on the edge of the table, right where Saren had sat earlier. "Think about it, the Terminus systems are lawless and aren't patrol or regulated by Council space or any main body of government. If you're going to do something illegal that you don't want people to know about, I'd do it in the Terminus system."

"But. . . . if what you say is correct, that humans didn't discover the Mass Relays until. . . roughly fifty years ago. . . and let's say. . . we had no idea of other races until the First Contact War which was. . . um. . . .twenty years later." Lynn did not like where the conversation was going. She didn't like it at all. "Then someone found the Athena and towed it out to Terminus space through the Relays for. . . whatever reason. . . wouldn't someone have noticed that? Like, 'whoa, they got the Athena! Lost science ship!"

"Not necessarily. Lynn, what do you last remember when you woke up?" Winter slid into a chair, the same chair Saren had occupied.

"I. . . I remember the doctor that was killed and. . . Jefferson taking me out of the cryo-chamber."

"Remember anything else? Like the room? How it looked?" Winter looked firmly at her, and she swore she could see in his eyes the old sullen man she had initially met one hundred years.

"I was pretty out of it. Jefferson had to carry me out because I went right back to sleep after they got me out." Lynn remembered wavering in and out of consciousness. "Did you see the ship after they awakened you?"

"Yeah, I had an easier time coming out of the fog than you." Winter replied. "We weren't on the Athena."

Lynn was so stunned that she felt numb. "Wait. . . how. . . how can you be so sure?"

"Because before you arrived, I stayed on the Athena a few days for tests. I'm ninety percent sure that the ship we were on wasn't the Athena, but. . .I didn't let on that I knew better."

I guess that this is a stupid question, but I'm going to ask it anyway." Lynn drew a deep breath, her shoulders shaking. "Do you have any idea of what ship we were on?"

"None, though there was a logo on the walls. Golden, dark yellow color. . . can't remember it well enough to draw, but it was on the walls and computer monitors. It was different from the Alliance logo."

"Oh. . . ."

"I'd know it if I ever see it again, though." Winter promised her as he got to his feet. "I better go, the fog is coming back."

"The fog. . . there's no fog." She watched him cross toward the door.

"The fog in here." Winter pointed at his head. "Right now, I'm starting to think its a good idea to tattoo Ambassador Udina on my ass so when I take a crap. . . . never mind, when the fog comes. . . .I. . . I don't think straight. . . gotta go."

Lynn watched him leave and felt great pity for him.

Hours later, she tried to sleep, but found she couldn't. Too much was going through her mind. Who had taken them to the Terminus systems and why? And what was done to them? What was done to her?

She kept touching the marks on her back, her fingers prodding the pink dots and she imagined the implements used on her body. She had to have this checked out before she drove herself crazy with worry.

The door buzzed below on the first floor. She reached over to the small computer on the bedstead and turned it on. It was logged into her comm channel and also into her apartments security at the door. It brought up an image of Mitaka standing at her door wearing a blue uniform. "Mitaka?"

"Ms. Sheridan, did I wake you?" Mitaka spoke to her through the speaker. "I'm sorry if I did, but I must speak with you."

Staring at the Alliance logo on his breast, she realized that surely the Alliance knew of this. Winter and Lynn weren't astronomers, but most certainly a military and government body would realize what they had just discovered. And they hadn't informed them.

"Ms. Sheridan?"

"Yes, yes, I'm up . . .I. . . please, come in." She granted the door permission to open and rolled out of bed, snagging a housecoat and drawing it across her shoulders. She stepped down the stairs to the lower level as Mitaka let himself in.

She hadn't seen him since they arrived and he looked clean and more real in his uniform instead of the skin tight suit she last saw him wearing. "You look well."

"I should say the same for you." Mitaka replied as the doors slid shut behind him. "I know Saren came by and spoke to you."

Lynn halted midway down the steps. "Excuse me?"

"What did you two talk about?" Mitaka had a nervous look scrawled across his face, she noticed for the first time. "Did he hurt you again?"

"He came by to bring over the old recordings of my family." Lynn replied. She wasn't sure how much she could or would tell Mitaka. Very likely he knew about what had truly happened to them.

"And he stayed here with you for nearly half an hour. I don't think he was here to share in good times." Mitaka said bitterly. "Please, don't hide things, what did he tell you?"

"Funny you should say that." She replied, her hands resting on the bannister as she stared down at him.

"Ms. Sheridan, please. . ." Mitaka stepped to the foot of the stairs. "I'm your friend here. And I know that you know Saren is no friend of yours. What did he tell you?"

"Answer this question," Lynn tighten her grip on the bannister, "why were we out in the Terminus system?"

"Your ship. . . drifted out there." Mitaka couldn't even look at her as he lied.

"No, that isn't true." Lynn said through tight lips. "Winter and I figured it out. There is no way that the Athena could have made it that far from Earth unless someone took us there. And Winter believes that the ship you took us from isn't the Athena at all, but a different ship."

Mitaka's mouth opened in an O of surprise. His lips move, but it seemed that speech had left him. He swallowed, she could see his throat bob from where she stood. "I. . . .I see. . . ."

"You'd didn't think we could figure it out? Did you?" Lynn felt stirrings of anger rising up within her. "You thought us too ignorant to figure out something that an amateur astronomer would already know? Hell, something a high school student would learn?"

"No, no, no," Mitaka shook his head, "No, we were going to tell you, but you needed time to adjust to your surroundings, to your new life."

"Who took us there!" Lynn could barely keep her voice below a shout.

"We don't know."

"Winter remembered a logo."

"We don't know, Lynn Sheridan. We're investigating that now."

"What has your investigations turn up? Tell me everything, Mitaka." Lynn stormed down the stairs and halted at the step that brought her eye to eye with the taller Mitaka. "Tell me everything you know or you can leave right now."

Mitaka stepped back, his eyes on her face as it became set in a firm frown. Lynn could see that his eyes were studying her face as he made his decision inside his head. Then finally, "Alright, I'll tell you what I know, but understand, there are things I'm not sure about either and don't have the answer to."


End file.
